Meldarion
by TheSecretUchiha
Summary: With the war finally over, Harry finds that all he had fought for is gone. After reaching this startling revelation, he's drawn into another world and another war. Eventual slash. Legolas/Harry. Rating may go up.
1. Prologue

A/N: Well, I've had this hanging around for ages, and it's probably going to be something that I won't update very often, but I thought I might aswell publish what I've got cause it's not bad and the Legolas/Harry fandom could always use another addition.

always forget this!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. not Legolas, not Harry and most definately not that gold ring this story revolves around! I _so _don't suit gold! Silver is much more my colour!

Tell me what you think of this, alright?

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Prologue

Harry blinked, observing the jubilant witches and wizards rushing about him, overcome with joy. It wouldn't last long. Soon the sorrow and devastation of the war they had survived would overcome them, and instead of embracing each other with smiles, frowns would mar their tear-streaked faces.

Yet Harry already felt the emptiness. All his friends were gone and the one thing that had kept him going – his drive to defeat Voldemort to avenge each of them – was gone. Staring at the body of the man who had caused him so much pain and hatred for the past seventeen years. He was truly glad it was over. His vengeance fulfilled and the darkness that had blanketed the country finally felled. Yet, what was he to do now? His task was complete and he was free of all responsibility to the wizarding world. He could finally get away, have some peace from the constant fighting that he had been forced into. But Harry suddenly found he didn't want that. His friends… Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna… they were all gone. He would miss them all so much but… even after all they had been through – him, Ron and Hermione particularly – he found they were not the ones he missed the most.

Hedwig. Oh how much he would give to see her one more time. She truly had been with him from the start, through the horrors of living with the Dursleys. She had been the only one to witness him at his weakest, seen the scars marking each of the failings his uncle had beat into him. She was the only one who had never strayed from him in the slightest. Never doubted him, even when he fell into the deepest self-doubt. And he had failed her when he fled the abusive home she had lived through with him.

He hardly noticed when he slipped to his knees and pulled them to his chest protectively, his eyes still staring unseeingly at Voldemort's body. He subconsciously registered that soon people would begin crowding him, once the shock had worn off for them.

'I don't want to be here!' he thought unexpectedly to himself. Why wouldn't he want to be here? he wondered. Hogwarts is his home, ever since he first entered it's doors and walked down the centre of the great hall, scared of whatever test he would be faced to decide his house.

But suddenly in his vision Hogwarts wasn't the important part, the twinkling blue eyes watching over the procession in a grandfatherly fashion were. The nervous babble that Hermione spouted out about the ceiling of the hall. The shocked exclamation of 'Bloody Hell!' from the redhead walking in awe beside him. That was what made this castle home to him. 'I don't want to be here!' he cried to himself again, desperate to be away as he felt the first wizard approach him and lay a hand on his shoulder, shaking him exuberantly.

A split second later his magic lashed out, pushing the wizard backwards across the floor. He closed his eyes tighter, overcome in his thoughts of memories he had shared with his most important people. Hermione conjuring a small blue flame for them to huddle around for warmth. Ron's freckled face cringing as a small trail of spiders escaped from the corridor through a cracked windowpane. Dumbledore lamenting on his experience of a vomit flavoured bean. Sirius' laugh the second before he began his slow fall backwards through the veil… Hedwig nipping his ear harshly when he wasn't paying attention to her.

He felt it all, all the emotions associated with each memory, even the sharp pain on the shell of his ear…

Then he felt it again, as if the owl was still perched on his shoulder, wanting his attention. On the third painful tug he noticed his eyes were tightly closed and tried to open them. He had only managed the smallest peak when the white light surrounded him blinded him. He tried again, more slowly, before a fourth nip gained his frustration.

He threw his left arm up to his shoulder, successfully displacing the object of his ire only to receive a loud, shrill hoot of annoyance in his ear as the weight reattached itself to his shoulder.

Taking his right arm this time, he raised it carefully to his shoulder, placing it carefully and cautiously on his shoulder. He could never mistake the soft plumage he ran his fingers through as any other bird.

"Hedwig?" he asked, surprised at the musical and soft tone his voice took, instead of the normal harsh and deep sound. The gentle 'coo' he got made him force his eyes open the last fraction and turn to his left in shock.

Large amber eyes stared back at him, silent mirth conveyed in them at his disbelieving expression.

"Where am I?" he asked her softly, continuing to thread his fingers through her soft feathers as he finally surveyed his surroundings.

"You are in a holding chamber in the Halls of Mandos, little one, however you do not yet belong here," spoke a gentle voice to his right.

There were four of them stood there, beings of such great power he could not make out their features for the aura surrounding each of them. He could but make out that there were two of each sex.

"Why am I here then?" he asked nervously, adding, "if I'm not meant to be."

He felt, more than heard, several of them chuckle, the feeling causing a great warmth, the likes of which he only ever felt whilst listening to the song of a phoenix.

"We brought you here to explain your new task to you, bright one, before we send you onwards", one of the male figures informed him.

"New task? Send me on? Who are you?" he asked, starting to panic slightly.

One of the female forms moved towards him swiftly, leaving him little time to defend himself other than shuffle backwards hastily, putting too much weight on his wrist, which – he now noticed – was still as broken as it had been when his duel with Voldemort ended. All the other wounds were still very much present – and bleeding – and yet he couldn't feel anything except a numbing warmth throughout his body.

His attention was suddenly pulled from his wrist when two arms enveloped him, pulling him to a chest and surrounding him in the glowing aura that blanketed the beings.

"Calm Little one, we will not hurt you," she whispered soothingly. "We are known as the Valar, or what you would call Gods. I am Estë. The others are Nienna: Lady of Mercy; Lórien: Master of Visions and Dreams and Mandos: Judge of the Dead and the Master of Doom. We are but four of the Valar who are most relevant to you, Little one." She motioned to each as she spoke of them.

Lórien stepped forward as she finished, beginning to speak in a voice misty and distant with forsight. "We have seen your struggles in your own world and the toils you went through to defeat an enemy who should have been far outwith your strength to conquer. And still, when fulfilled your set task," here Harry could tell he was getting a look of wonder, "you were not content. You wished for another task, another set of struggles. We have such a task for you to undertake."

Mandos took up the explanation instantly, as if previously rehearsed. "The world we watch over is falling into darkness as a Dark Lord rises again. He is much stronger than the one you have just conquered, but you would be an invaluable ally to the Light with the experience you hold. Your strength – that would be greater in the world of Arda – would also be greatly needed to combat the armies of evil. There are but few wizards – or Istari – in Arda and the leader of the council has shown his betrayal with his violation of the land. You will meet with the strongest Istari in Rivendell, Olórin, or Mithrandir, as they call him in Arda. He will travel with you on your journey."

And finally Nienna stepped forwards, speaking a in voice so gentle, Harry strained forwards to hear. "But we would not send you without gifts in return for your assistance. The first shall be Hedwig, your most loyal companion, may her presence guide you through your darkest times."

Harry smiled brightly at her, whilst Hedwig 'coo'ed, nibbling his ear affectionately.

"The second and third gifts go hand-in-hand" Lórien continued, "on entrance to Arda you will gain a new form, do not worry when you first see it, for you are still 17 years old. However this new form has certain benefits which will be explained to you. The third gift is that of a person. Your soulmate is in Arda, waiting for you. He too will be waiting in Rivendell for you but neither of you will know of each other until you meet properly."

"The final gift" Estë spoke again from right beside him, "is of the least import. A sword to defend yourself with, for when your magic is best kept hidden."

Here she unclipped the belt from her own waist and fastened it around his, holding the sheathed blade to his left hip.

She stood up, placing him on his feet and backing away to join the other three Valar in watching.

"Good luck Little One, may you find healing quickly."

Harry opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but in a blinding flash, he disappeared from the light room, reappearing instantly in a snow-covered field and mind-numbing pain.

He fell to unconsciousness instantly.

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I feel the need to point out now that, unlike other LOTRs authors, I'm not _Extremely_ knowledgable on all the names, religions, history etc. so if I get things wrong, please inform me, but try to do so in a way that is not offensive, no one likes an offensive reviewer!

thank you!


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If I did own LOTR's, Gandalf would have asked the eagles to fly into Mordor, to Mt. Doom, at the _start_ of the adventure. it would have saved a LOT of hassle. and if i owned Harry Potter, Dumbledore wouldn't be the only gay in Hogwarts!

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A rough voice, and even rougher hands woke him painfully from his forced sleep, as they spoke in a coarse dialect whilst hoisting him from his frozen bed.

His eyes managed to open slightly as a hand descended on his burning forehead. He moaned as he was jostled by the loud man carrying him. The man himself was extremely stout, yet muscled, and had long red hair and a grizzly beard, both beginning to turn as white as snow with age. The hand moved from his forehead, brushing some hair from his face that was beginning to stick from the sweat. As it brushed passed his ear, however the man gave a cry of great surprise, staring intently at his ears before giving another loud bellow to his fellows. Harry only noticed other people coming into his sight before he once again fell into unconsciousness.

Glóin looked worriedly at the boy in his arms. Not only was he badly wounded and fevourish, but he was too light, even for being only six or seven years of age. His face was flushed deep red and sweat covered his brow. He moved his hand from his forehead, pushing the pitch black hair away to prevent it sticking, only to jump in surprise as he reached the boy's ear. Taking a look he found his suspicions confirmed, the ear was pointed!

"He's an elf-child!" he cried in shock, causing the rest of his company, his son included, to rush over to look.

Gimli, his son, instantly growled, spitting on the floor in distaste, "we should leave him be then! No good-for-nothing elf would ever give us the courtesy of aid in the same situation! Why should we help him?"

To his shock some of the other dwarves mutter in support of his statement. The elf-child moaned again in his arms, shifting in discomfort and receiving glares from about half the gathered dwarves.

"We will not leave him to die Gimli. How would Elrond welcome us if he discovered we had left one of his kind to die in the deep snow? The elves are extremely protective of their children, we would be carved alive if we let one die willingly." He began walking again, forcing the rest to fall in step behind him, whilst he contemplated his own words.

It was true, the elves care of their children was legendary, and no other race – even the Istari – had ever seen one of their young before they reached at least 200 years old. And so this made Glóin wonder to himself, how in Mahal's name did one end up by the foot of the lonely mountain, surrounded by snow and covered in wounds? It didn't make any sense.

He understood the other dwarves uncertainties in harbouring an elf. The two races had not got along too well in recent times, but he would not hear of them that they leave anyone to die when they have caused no greivances to any dwarf. Especially not a child!

They would take the elf-child to Rivendell, where Elrond could deal with it from then on.

The elf did not wake for the next four days, in which time only Glóin would attend to it. Each night they stopped he would lay the elf down in furs of his own – receiving glares from his son for such care – and take a damp rag to it's forehead to help calm it's fevour. Then he would slowly drip water down it's throat, massaging it's neck as gently as possible to coerce the elf into swallowing before it choked. He regreted he could do little else for the youngster, but so little was known about young elves that he didn't know what he could do. He then left the elf to attend to his own needs before returning to sleep beside it. And each night when he returned there would be an owl, with pure white feathering, waiting beside the boy's head.

On the fifth day, when the dwarves had just crossed the old ford, the elf-child stirred in Glóin's arms, before several minutes later his eyes fluttered open.

Glóin smiled widely down at his temporary charge, "we've just crossed The Great River and will reach the Misty Mountains tomorrow."

He allowed a brief frown to cross his face when, not only did the elf not show any signs of understanding, he also flinched away from him slightly, stiffening in his arms.

"Care to tell me how you were injured, Master Elf, and how you came to be alone in the wilderness?"

the elf merely continued to stare into his bearded face, not acknowledging a word he said.

"You don't speak the Common tongue?" Glóin found himself asking, resignedly.

When no answer was forth coming he sighed, pointing to himself he said as clearly as possible, "Glóin."

For Harry he was more than confused, and still nowhere near rational thought. The man spoke in a harsh voice, and, even though he couldn't understand a word, and the man smiled brightly at him, he couldn't prevent himself from tensing up. The man spoke again but Harry could only stare at him, not at all comprehending the words that were spoken to him. It seemed the man figured that out aswell, as he sighed before pointing to himself in an exagerated manner and saying, much more clearly than before, "Glóin."

Harry nodded his understanding wearily, not giving his own name even when prompted by 'Glóin'.

Harry felt himself growing tired again, Glóin shifted him closer to his muscled chest in response to his drooping eyes and, as Harry's injuries were jarred by the action and he hissed, he cursed the Valar for the predicament they dumped him in. 'Some Lady of Mercy she is!' he grouched to himself before he drifted off again.

They were on the last leg of their journey now. In just over a week, they would be across the mountains and into the valley of Rivendell. But Glóin worried for the elf in his charge. His fever was still raging strong, refusing to break, and with the return of the cold snowy surrounding, he worried the elf might be overcome before the reached the elvish settlement. Not to mention the other wounds that covered him. Whilst they were free from the dangerously cold climates, Glóin had taken the opportunity to bandage the injuries. They were visciously unpleasant and he was beginning to think the elf-child had been tortured before being left to die in the snow, from the extent of the injuries covering his petite body. And, to his dismay, they had but the most basic of ointments, so the wounds were taking their time to heal, constantly worn open by the rough travel of the dwarves.

Still none of the other dwarves would assist the elf. Glóin well remembered his treatment at the hands of the elves in Mirkwood, but he was hopeful that, if the situations were reversed, the elves would do the same as him. It was the deepest greivance that even his own son would not help him.

As they started to ascend the mountains – the elf's small form tucked against his chest inside his furs – he could only pray that it wasn't a dead elf-child that they carried into Rivendell.

May Mahal help him if that happened.

Harry was beginning to feel worse. Whenever he returned to consciousness he would feel even more delusional, and only ever managed a forced drink of the man's water before falling back into his fever-induced sleep. Yet in his brief few lucid moments he managed to take in that they had returned to frozen climates. He was beginning to think that, even with the care of the man, he would not be able to fulfil his supposed task on this planet – and that he would be seeing the Master of Death again rather soon.

For six days they travelled across the mountain, and for six days the elf stayed tucked inside his furs, his breath against Glóin's neck getting continously weaker as the hours passed. On the fifth day, when they started their descent from the mountain, he forced the other dwarves in his company to increase their pace, marching down the mountain side in quick order.

Each night as he lay down, the elf still pressed against him for heat, Glóin would sigh at the bad attitude of Gimli. Had he truly raised him with so deep a distrust of elves that he would leave one to die? If so, he wondered if bringing him to Rivendell was wise. He had thought Gimli might be able to hold his tongue around the elves but with each resentful glare sent his way, he was beginning to doubt it.

On the sixth day, when they reached the bottom of the mountain at dusk, he forced his group to continue marching. With the elf's breathing ragged against his skin he decided they could not rest any longer. It was with great delight when he reached the peak of a small hill to see the lights of Rivendell. His tired and moody company groaned loudly when he brightly announced, "it is but a little ways. We will run from here."

And so, with a hoist of his pack and one arm supporting the elf ever held to his side, he began to run, silently asking forgiveness of the elf as he groaned in pain.

One could hardly call their entrance into the elven realm fitting of dwarves of their standing, but, as they all huffed at the prolonged sprint, Glóin couldn't bring himself to care, immediately seeking out the first elf.

He could see the mirth dancing in the elf's eyes and, as he approached watched it grow larger as the elf immediately danced away, flitting around the corner and disappearing. A light laugh at the disgruntled dwarf caused him to turn around to see an elf very similar in appearance to the last, watching him whilst laughing openly.

Instead of approaching this time, the dwarf spoke from where he was, "Master Elf, I am Glóin, son of Gróin, embassy of Dáin II. It is of great importance that I speak with Lord Elrond."

The elf's eyes once more sparkled with mirth, "He is resting, you may wait until morning to speak with him. Quarters have been prepared, come and I will show you to them."

Glóin growled in frustration, ignoring the thrice-damned amusement in the elf's eyes.

"I need to see him now! You will just have to wake him or I will cause enough noise to wake him myself!"

the twinkle in the elf's eyes instantly hardened and his voice grew deeper, "What do you threaten me with, dwarf? You are guest's in this place and you think to demand to see my father? He is not available at present, I have told you, and he will see you in the morning if that is your wish."

Glóin would finally hear no more of it. The elf was infuriating, and with the elf-child's breathing against his neck a constant reminder, he needed to get to Elrond soon, or nothing would stop the elf from dying.

He drew his axe. "Go and fetch your father instantly, or I'm certain you will all regret it for many years." His threat was not idle, and the elf knew it as instantly the dwarves were surrounded on all sides by knocked arrows pointed to their throats.

He felt the others behind him tense, but didn't allow himself the same comfort, staring almost pleadingly to the stubborn elf watching him disdainfully.

"You will dis-"

"Enough." All eyes turned to face the speaking elf as Elrond strode from another archway, staring intently at Glóin. "I am awake, what is it you would have of my Master Dwarf?" the Elven Lord asked coldly, eyeing the drawn axe.

"I would have you healing skills Lord Elrond. On our journey here we came across a youngster you might be interested in, deep in snow. He needs immediate attention if he has any hope to survive!"

Instantly Elrond's eyes moved from Glóin to focus on the slight figure protruding from the inside of his own furs, wrapped tightly to his body. He gave a stiff nod, motioning for the dwarf to follow quickly and made haste to his House of Healing. Elladan and Elrohir instantly followed behind him, ignoring the dwarves completely.

The three of them entered a free room without a glance at the dwarves, none to pleased with the entrance they had caused, but Elrond motioned to the bed silently, waiting until the dwarf unwound the boy from his furs and laid him on the bed before he moved forward to examine him.

Glóin watched anxiously, ignoring the burning glares from the two elf brothers to wait for Elrond to say anything about the elf's state.

The elder brought a hand to the elf's forehead, feeling the burning fever for himself before pulling his hand away quickly. He issued a brief snap of commands to one of his sons who quickly complied and moved to leave the room, only to pause at a sharp exclamation from his father. The sons watched in shock as he staggered back slightly before looking at the dwarf in shock. They too turned to glare at the dwarves before their father spoke.

"He's an elfling?"

After the startling announcement the three elves set to work more vigourously than seen before. Creams and balms were mixed from freshly collected plants and applied to the crusted wounds covering the elf. One elf sat constantly at the child's head and applied a damp cloth to his burning forehead whilst whispering words of calm to the elf.

It was four days before any of them left the elf's side, and the inhabitants of Rivendell – especially those who had come for council – wondered what was keeping the Elven Lord so. The dwarves were treated with distrust after their entry was whispered amoungst the elves. Their lord and his sons had disappeared after such a spectacle and they knew the dwarves had something to do with it.

Even Mithrandir himself seemed at a loss as to why the Elven Lord had suddenly withdrawn and refused to come out. Nothing was known of the injured elfling lying ill in a bed within the house of healing.

Whispers were a constant companion to Glóin and his fellow dwarves, and dark looks from the elves and it wasn't until the fourth day of their stay, when the twin elves left ehe elfling's room that they abated.

With great reluctance, both approached the dwarves as they sat in the courtyard. Glóin heard Gimli growl behind him at their presence but he ignored that. Upon reaching the company both elves, to the shock of those observing, bowed lowly to him.

"We both offer our sincerest apologies for our actions to you upon your arrival. They were undeserved and your actions leave us in your debt. Tonight we will hold a feast in your honour, Master Dwarf."

"Aye, but now I would see the child."

Both elves hesitated, glancing at each other before nodding reluctantly. "Ada is with him at the moment. His fever broke last night and he is just sleeping the remains of it away. We are hopeful he will wake in the next few days," Elrohir explained as they walked swiftly to the elfling's room, forcing the dwarf to jog hastily behind them.

"And when he wakes we can find out who did this to him, and hunt them each down and cause them the same hurts," Elladan murmured to himself, though not low enough for the dwarf not to hear also, being thankful that he was not the one to incur these elves' wrath.

They soon entered the airy room of healing to find the Lord Elrond sitting by the bed, watching the sleeping elf intently. He glanced up as his sons drew up another chair and bade the dwarf sit before exitting again to inform the kitchens of the planned feast.

"You have my deepest respect for your care of this elfling, Glóin, son of Gróin. I have no doubt he would have succumbed to his hurt and left for Valinor had you not. And for my actions and those of the rest of the elves – my sons' particularly – of the other night I can give you nought but my humblest apologies and tell you that, in that instant atleast, the dwarves deeply embarrassed my kin and I in our foolish behaviour."

Glóin chuckled deeply, leaning back in his chair, "I never thought I would live to hear an elf tell a dwarf _that_! And as much as it was a joy for my old ears to hear, I'm not sure in the truth of your statement. I regret to hear myself say it aloud, but my companions were not as willing to help when we found him to be an elf – not at all…"

They both sat in contemplative silence, watching the sun bleach the elfling's fair skin different shades of orange as it set.

Some time later, Elladan entered, announcing that it was time they both prepared for the feast. Elrond nodded in agreement, whilst Glóin looked uncertainly at the bed-bound elf.

"Elladan, fetch Glorfindel here, he will be more than willing to forego a feast to look after an elfling."

Glóin nodded hesitantly in understanding and slowly made his way from the room, disappearing from the doorway with an anxious backwards glance.

The blonde Balrog-slayer arrived but a minute later, taking in the unconscious elf with wide eyes. "But there hasn't been an elfling since Arwen!" he gasped in shock, staring into Elrond's dark eyes, seeking answers.

The elven lord nodded, understandingly and motioned the elf to take a seat and beginning to explain everything he had been told my the dwarf to his fellow elf. He left for the feast, content that the little elfling would not be allowed out of the protective elf's sight.

Elrond chuckled to himself. Glorfindel the Elf-Lord, was a motherhen.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm planning on purchasing the rights to Legolas and Harry, once i've won the lottery several times. Then I'll start making money from stories about them. For now there is no profits made.

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Elrond sighed, glancing around the gathered representitives of each of the free-races of middle earth. He could tell Elrohir, Elladan and Glorfindel were just as… 'twitchy' – as Mithrandir had called it – as himself. None of the mortals would notice, and few of the immortals would aswell, but the smirk on Mithrandir's face as he watched the four of them just infuriated Elrond. They had good reason to want to be elsewhere! The little elfling _still_ hadn't woken and yet Mithrandir had still forced him to hold council, leaving the child on it's own. He could tell how close he was to waking! Elrond didn't want to think of what would happen to the newborn if it woke in a strange surrounding with no memory of getting there. And now all the mortals were arguing 'what', when the real questions were 'whom' and 'how'!

Harry blinked slowly, staring unseeingly up at a high-arced ceiling, carved from white stone into elegant designs. As he stared, all that had happened to him came tumbling back, washing over his mind in great waves, leaving him silent from the sudden changes that had overcome his life. Voldemort was finally dead. He was in a different world and, from the feeling of his body, that was different too: smaller. He had spoken to gods and they had appointed him a new task on this world. He was to go on a journey with another wizard. A wizard called Olórin. And his soul-mate!

The valar had told him his soulmate would be in Rivendell and, from what he could remember of the man telling him, he was in Rivendell just now! Harry had never thought of someone being destined to be with him, and hopefully love him. He had just never felt that way about any person before. Ginny had adored the Boy Who Lived, the concept of a fairytale prince coming to save her from the evil Dark Lord. He could never return her feelings. She would only ever have been a sister to him… but she was gone forever. It mattered little now.

He turned his face from the ceiling as a small lump landed on the pillow beside his head and Hedwig gently nibbled his ear affectionately. In return he tentitavely raised an arm, careful to not overstretch himself, still painfully – though nowhere near as much as before – aware that he had been greiviously wounded in the last duel. After several moments of light coo'ing in appreciation of his administrations, he felt Hedwig still, turning to look out the window before giving a sharper nip on his ear. He nodded in understanding and sat up.

He got his first proper glance at his body. The valar had changed his shape greatly. No longer was he possessing the body of his seventeen year old self, he now resembled a boy of six, although he was surprise to find a reasonable amount of muscle still attached to his form. His skin was paler now, reminding him of the pale tones of any Malfoy, yet even more aristocratic. He raised a hand to run through his hair – a nervous habit no one was able to beat out of him – and found even that had changed! His hair was still the ebony black it had always been, though with more luster now. However, where his hair had previously sat on his head in an untidy mess of locks, unruly to the last, strands now flowed straight down his neck, to the base of his shoulder blades with, what appeared, not one misplaced hair on his head.

He stood cautiously, Hedwig perching on his uninjured right shoulder. Looking around the room he spotted a set of clothes folded in a chair nearer the door, with the sword he had been gifted lying atop the pile.

He unfolded the first article, admiring the texture of the cloth before a sharp hoot from Hedwig focussed his attention. He graced her with an appreciative smile and began pulling them on before fastening the sword to his waist and, from the bottom of the pile, he pushed his wand up his sleeve.

Done dressing, he slipped quietly out of the room, walking down a corridor until he reached a courtyard. Once outside of the beautiful buildings Hedwig instantly took flight, landing several buildings away and waiting patiently until he just about caught up before taking flight again.

Minutes later he came across the strangest gather of people he had ever seen. He instantly recognised one man as the one who bore him to this place, though seeing him now he doubted the being was a man, reaching to the chest of the man standing beside him. Others he recognised in presence only, those being four fair men - or elves as he vaguely remembered hearing mention of whilst flitting between consciousness and otherwise.

And in the center of the group, on a stone platform, sat a ring. Harry was no fool, with but one glance at the ring he could tell what evil was afoot in this place. They may not be named the same in this world, but he would always recognise a horcrux when he saw one. The dark aura that surrounded objects of such evil was unmistakable as anything else, he had seen enough of Voldemort's to know this. But looking at this one, he realised there was one significant difference. It was as the Valar had told him, the evil being who created this horcrux was much stronger than Voldemort, he could see that this horcrux would not be simply destroyed by fiendfyre, or basilisk blood, it was linked to the place of it's origin, and only there would it be undone.

He was startled out of his thoughts by one of the familiar elves speaking. This one was old and had dark brown hair and an elegant circlet of silver perched on his brow. "So be it. Nine comp-"

Harry did not understand the words he was speaking but, assuming it to be conclusive of those partaking the journey, whom stood in a varied group, he spoke up, interupting the Elf-Lord.

"_I will go."_

The assembled men turned to look at him in shock but he simply stared at Elrond and repeated the words he had spoken in elvish, _"I will go."_

The elf shook his head to him, _"You cannot go Little One. This task is for those of strong hearts, minds and bodies. Whilst I do not doubt you hold the first two, the latter is most certainly lacking at present. You need rest and healing."_

Harry bristled at the comment, drawing himself up to his extremely unimpressive, full height.

"_The Valar brought me into this world for this purpose!"_ he announced, walking forwards to stand with the company, managing to only stumble slightly in his step.

_"I have much experience with war, and especially objects such as that ring. I will go with them to destroy it."_

He felt many of the elves giving him disapproving looks but ignored them, staring forcefully into Elrond's eyes to convey his determination.

"_You say the Valar brought you Little One? You spoke with them?"_

Harry nodded briefly, _"Some of them. I spoke with Nienna and __Estë, Mandos and Lórien. They gave me four gifts. One of which was the sword from Estë's hip."_

Several of the elves assembled gasped, while others gave him looks of doubt.

_"And what did they-"_

The Lord Elrond was cut of, as Boromir, tired of not understanding the conversation occurring around him, broke in, understanding the general reason for the argument by the position beside the last hobbit Harry had manoeuvred into.

"You cannot surely be thinking of letting this child go!?!" he demanded forcefully, staring intently at Harry.

With the sudden shift from the lulling voice of Elrond to the harsh tones of the great man, Harry found himself staggered slightly, slipping backwards before a hand on his shoulder steadied him.

Even through the silken shirt he wore, Harry could feel the fiery tingle of the other elf's fingers against his skin. He knew the feeling instantly, even though he had never experienced it before, and never would with another. He raised his eyes, ignoring the arguments breaking out around him in that moment, to look up into the face of his mate.

The elf was extremely handsome, and for a brief moment, Harry felt himself swell with pride at having himself such a fine mate. But then he realised his current predicament. His body was still young. The Valar had assured him he was still seventeen, and he could sense the elves surrounding him were all very old – though they still looked young – and so he could only conclude that elves either aged extremely slowly, or they did so until a point of immortality or eternal youth at which their aging slowed to a near complete stop. Agreeing with his second conclusion, he realised that, should his mate want him, they would be forced to wait however long it took until he reached his maturity.

Harry brushed these troubles aside as the elf's other hand rose, settling on his cheek whilst their eyes stayed locked.

The elf had the most stunning silver eyes and gorgeous lengths of platinum blonde hair – the exact same traits Draco Malfoy had prided himself on. But Harry found that, on this being, he didn't mind in the slightest, he was the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen.

A thumb gently caressed his cheek and Harry knew that – even though he loved Hedwig dearly – this was the greatest gift he could have received from the Valar and, after having cursed them for his arrival on this planet, he thanked them for allowing him to experience these feelings.

Their eyes stayed locked, ignorant of the arguments surrounding them having stopped minutes ago. Harry did not want to break the moment but, as the feelings in the other elf's gaze became more prominent, he found he had to ask before he became too entangled.

_"Will you wait for me?"_

The other elf merely smiled at him and nodded his head, _"I have waited all my life and I will continue to wait until you are ready, my beloved."_

Harry allowed himself to become entwined in the other elf's arms, pressing his head into the taunt stomach of the much taller elf.

The moment lasted for but several seconds before it was interrupted by the gruff voice of the small man/being whom Harry instantly recognised as one of his rescuers companions – one who had been less that pleased to assist an elf. He looked up into the blonde elf's frowning face for a translation.

He was graced with a smile before he translated, _"He says 'it isn't courteous to speak in a tongue not all present understand.'"_

Harry frowned at this before nodding, speaking back to his mate and not granting the small man with a glance, _"you may tell the little being that neither is it courteous to wish to leave someone to die in the snow."_

He waited until his soul-mate finished translating before turning his back to the bearded man and continuing to speak with Elrond.

_"The Valar have just brought me to this world, as I said, and so I may not quite understand what is happening in full detail, but I do know enough to be sure I can be of great assistance on this quest. You have just lost the support of one wizard, the Valar sent me to replace the betrayer and re-establish some form of balance for the approaching war. If you do not allow me to enter the Fellowship, I shall follow behind them to the journey's end and back."_

The newfound partner moved to place and hand on his shoulder from where he stood protectively behind him, causing Harry to look back into his face.

The elf had a concerned look on his face but studied Harry's face when he turned to look at him before closing his eyes sadly. When he opened them he gave Harry a small nod of acceptance to which Harry returned with a smile.

Seeing the acceptance of his soul-mate, Harry turned back to face Elrond who was looking as troubled as the blonde elf had looked moments before.

_"You say you are an Istari, sent to replace Saruman?"_

Harry nodded in confirmation, watching him determinedly.

_"And that you hail from a different world in which you dealt with similar troubles and succeeded, which is why the Valar brought you into Arda?"_

Harry nodded again; not speaking out with the thought that Elrond seemed to be conceding.

His thoughts were confirmed when Elrond bowed his head in defeat, _"very well, you too shall accompany Frodo in his quest. I will trust Legolas to protect you if need be."_

During the many cries of outrage and shock from the observing elves the hand on his shoulder once again tightened and the elf nodded, acknowledging his task should Harry prove unable to look after himself.

"_I will not allow any harm to befall him."_ The elf from Mirkwood vowed.

Elrond nodded solemnly, _"I can only hope you can hold to that, Legolas."_

With the matter of company decided, Harry was converged upon on all sides by curious elves. Thankfully Legolas quickly picked him up in his arms, out of the reach of those overcurious hands. With a small nod to the fellowship he followed a self-doubting Elrond from the courtyard they had convened in, and Harry quickly found himself placed back in the bed he had woken in.

The five elves present spread across his room, two taking a seat by the side of his bed whilst the two brothers stood by the door. Legolas himself sat on the bed with Harry seated comfortably in his lap, one hand running gently up and down his arm.

Elrond frowned, _"A large mess you've created Little One. And somehow I'm already wrapped around your finger! How you convinced me to let you go is still confusing to me. But now that you are finally awake I think it is the time that we get some answers. Most you've already told us answers some of the original questions as to how you appeared in such a place as the Lonely Mountain whilst some of what you said has just raised more questions. I think the easiest thing to do would be to let you tell your story and we'll save all questions for the end. Just start with your name and take it from there,"_ he explained, adding the last part upon seeing Harry's uncertain expression.

"_My name was Harry, but I no longer feel to be him, so much has changed in my life recently…" _he began hesitantly.

And so he told the elves of his old life in a world where wizards were not an uncommon occurrence. Of the insane Dark Lord that appeared at every twist and turn in his life and the prophecy that bound them together to fight by fate. Of his final victory over the wizard but the consequential loss that accompanied that triumph. Then of the meeting held in the Halls of Mandos. Some parts he excluded from the tale, being too personal to him to speak to a room of six – he had been so deep in memory he had not noticed Olórin entering the room. The wizard was a near perfect replica of Albus that Harry had found it hard to force himself not to stare when he first saw him at the council – he quickly found something much more interesting to stare at anyway.

When he concluded his tale the sun was fading from view, leaving the room basked in the dark oranges of the last glimpse of light until it rose again next morn. They sat in silence for several moments before Olórin spoke from his position by the window.

"_Such an impressive tale, Elfling. I'm sure Bilbo would love to hear it,"_ he muttered the last part lower than a mortal could hear.

Elrond stood after another moments pause and looked at Harry emotionlessly before allowing a slight smile to cross his face. _"We will leave you be for now, no doubt you will want to converse much more in private…"_ his face became relflective for a second, _"Never can I remember such a strong connection…"_ his face lost it's pensieve gaze and he smiled again. _"It will be a while yet before the fellowship set out. Many plans have yet to be made. I suggest you take this time to rest."_

The company filtered from the room quickly, leaving the two elves in each other's company. Harry allowed himself to lean backwards, into the strong chest of the blonde elf as equally strong arms enveloped his currently damaged chest. He released a small sigh of contentment and heard a chuckle in reply before a chaste kiss was placed on his ear.

_"You need to rest, Harry."_

_"Don't call me that. I'm not that person anymore."_

Legolas chuckled deeply, the vibrations travelling into the elfling from their origin in the elder elf's chest.

_"Then what shall I call you?"_

"_I… I haven't thought of a name yet,"_ he admited tiredly, snuggling into the other's chest as his eyes lowered. _"You pick a name for me please."_

_"Then you shall be my Meldarion. Sleep well."_

* * *

Please don't be annoyed at how quickly their relationship is starting!

I didn't really mean for it to happen like that but it was fate! it just came out!

any reviews/ comments/ critism/ ideas would be appreciated. although the latter three all come in the form of reviews so any reviews would be nice!


	4. Chapter 3

Well, thanks a lot for the amazing response!

All the reviews were awesome!

Now, one reviewer did ask why Harry changes his name when he just wanted to be Harry before. You're right, when he was younger, Harry was all he wanted to be known as, probably because the Dursley's always called him boy, and suchlike. But in my opinion, that part of Harry's life wasn't that great either, so if you enter a brand-spanking new world when you've had a terrible life before, you would want to start over. And, tbh, was there anyone named 'Harry' or 'Tony' in LOTRs? If there was please tell me and I'll be more knowledgeable for it. This is just how I'm thinking, but don't feel obliged to agree with it.

I've also had several people telling me that Este and Nienna are women. I've looked back over what I've written and I can't see anywhere where I've said otherwise: 'two of each sex' also shows that there are two men and two women. And people have also told me how many Valar there are. I only said that they were 'but four of the Valar who are most relevant to you' implying there are others.

I'm not meaning to sound like I don't appreciate the messages. And if you could tell me where I did say that Este and Nienna were men, please tell me and I'll fix it!

Disclaimer: I like to think I own both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Unfortunately I'm extremely delusional.

But, anyway, on with the story!

* * *

Talks with a Wizard

Meldarion soon found the elvish haven to be somewhere he would want to spend several lifetimes. The whole place was so soothing, and he often found Legolas and himself just sitting, enjoying the calm nature of the surroundings and each other's company.

The prince of Mirkwood had become extremely protective of his young mate. Meldarion allowed the decades older elf to accompany him everywhere, holding his hand. He enjoyed the overprotective-ness that he exhibited and the feelings of love and adoration that he was bathed in. never had he felt such a pure devotion directed at him. Ginny had been devoted, but it had become an obsessive devotion, vacant of the tenderness and gentle emotions Legolas gave him.

Of course it was not all lounging around, Legolas had found it pertinent that his mate pick up the westron language, especially as they would soon be travelling within a group that spoke it as their predominant language. Many an afternoon that Meldarion wished to spend bathing in the autumn light were instead spend inside, sitting amongst parchments and books as Legolas slowly taught him the specific words and phrases.

The blonde elf was pleasantly surprised at the rate his raven-haired mate picked up the language. Not only was the elfling extremely beautiful and pure of soul but he also was exceptionally smart and absorbed the lessons quickly. He couldn't help the fond smiles that crossed his face when the boy would speak a phrase to him in the language of man and look to him for praise.

They also spent evenings in the courtyard, teaching Meldarion to use the sword he had been gifted. He found that this was also something he picked up rather quickly. The movements he compared to the movements used to cast spells in his previous world, with a stick of wood he called a wand. When Meldarion had mentioned his magic, Legolas had asked curiously to see some and was shocked when the elfling smiled and muttered a phrase under his breath. A bright light erupted from the slip of wood he held in a strong stance and seconds later it cleared until a stag stood proudly in front of them, conjured in the form of the bright light.

However Legolas quickly found he wasn't the only one pouring adoration onto the elfling. The entirety of Rivendell was smitten with him once they discovered his existence and often popped into their study to shower him with complements and attention. After just the second day of their insistent pestering, he barred the door, praying the elves would leave well enough alone and let them get on with their lessons in peace.

It worked thankfully, and he just had to put up with their affection of his mate during meals and walks. However he often received complements on receiving such a beautiful mate. He merely smiled and said he thanked the Valar everyday for their gift.

A month passed before there was word of them leaving. Gandalf and Elrond had settled their plans and now all that was left was to take the first steps. On their penultimate day in Rivendell, Legolas allowed the little elfling to sleep in later than normal as he went about preparing anything they would need to take with them. He had admired the sword Meldarion had been given by the Lady Estë. The blade was perfect and the perfect size for his small elf.

He picked through the clothes the elves of rivendell had provided for Meldarion and quickly decided on the travelling cloak and cotton tunic and pants, as they would be most comfortable to travel in whilst they were still in the relative safety of the elfen lands.

As the sun rose higher Meldarion began to stir and finally sat up from the comfortable bed they had become accustomed to over the passed month. He looked around the room and smiled, "_You didn't have to pack for me. I'm very much capable of doing that myself._"

Legolas smiled. It was a flaw in elves that they conveniently 'forgot' how quickly elflings matured and continued to baby them well up to their fiftieth birthday and often beyond that.

And it _always_ annoyed the elflings. He knew Meldarion was approaching his eighteenth year, and was as mature as any man by now, but he still found it easy to baby him.

"_I thought you might like to sleep this morning, it's going to be a long day tomorrow. Today we'll just take it easy, alright?"_

Meldarion nodded in acceptance and pulled himself out of bed. He looked at the small pile of clothes sitting on the bedside chair before looking to Legolas, "_For tomorrow?_"

Legolas nodded and Meldarion sighed, "_You pack my things AND pick out my clothes for me! I'm seventeen!"_

"_And still a long way from maturity!"_ Legolas reminded him, only to see Meldarion non-plussed face.

"_When do I reach maturity then? In my world it was seventeen."_  
Legolas laughed at that, "_You think you could reach maturity while you're _that_ size? You only just reach my chest!"_

He ignored the indignant look on Meldarion's face as he paced over to him, intent on proving he did, indeed, reach passed his chest.

It was a great disappointment, therefore, when his forehead didn't even reach the blonde elf's chin.

With a slight huff and his face settled in a pout, he proclaimed, "_I could make myself bigger if I wanted!_"

Legolas smiled fondly down at him and knelt to wrap his arms around the boy's back, pulling him to his chest as he settled a kiss on top of the boy's head. _"Don't. I like you like this. I feel more useful when I think I can provide for you. Even if you don't think I need to. Please, just let me."_

Meldarion laid his head again the blonde's chest and nodded slightly, allowing a content smile to cross his face.

This was the love he had been missing out on for years.

* * *

The fellowship met with Elrond in the courtyard once again, taking their seats in a circle, smaller this time to accommodate their smaller numbers.

Legolas took the seat to the right of him with the other side empty. He acknowledged the glares being sent his way by Gimli and Boromir with a glance, and the curious looks from the four hobbits with a small smile. The other man, Aragorn, was one who had visited him, or Legolas rather, often, and had started conversation with him in elvish several times, which he was pleasantly surprised at. He found out the man was brought up by Elrond in Rivendell and had been given the name Estel, which Meldarion rather liked the sound of. The man was a ranger, his mate had explained after their first meeting, but he was also the heir to the throne of the city of Gondor. The man was strong and true, and Meldarion couldn't think of better qualities than that. He was someone he could see himself becoming easily attached to as they travelled.

And then of course, there was Olórin, or Gandalf as he was called my most. He was very much like Dumbledore had been, though Meldarion doubted he was as manipulative as Albus had been. But no matter what, he was a strong wizard, and he would see why it was Olórin who would be leading the fellowship.

There was a table in the centre of the circle, covering Middle Earth in it's entirity, and Meldarion watched as the meeting began and their path was drawn across it while areas of concern were pointed out.

For the most part he could keep up with the rapid Westron, but every few minutes he would have to ask Legolas what had just been said.

Legolas himself always found a moment to smile at the look of concentration on the elfling's face as he focussed intently on whomever was speaking at the time. Every now and then a small pink tongue was dart out between his lips to give a soothing lick to his bottom lip which had been sufficiently chewed with concentration.

"_What did he say there?"_ Meldarion suddenly asked, snapping Legolas out of his observations.

Legolas smiled, _"I have no idea."_

He rolled his eyes at the elder elf, _"Pay attention then! I can't keep up with everything going on here!"_

Legolas nodded subserviently with an amused smile, _"Of course, Meldarion."_

He ignored the multiple snickers from those who could understand elvish and looked at Elrond.

"_He's sorted out. Please continue Lord Elrond."_

The dark haired elf smiled at the cheeky elfling before nodding and beginning to speak again.

The meeting continued for the rest of the day.

Meldarion was surprised when, next morning, everything proceeded calmly, instead of the usual last minute rush he associated with the start of a new term, or adventure in this case.

The fellowship met in a different courtyard, with a pony laden with bags of supplies waiting patiently beside one of the hobbits whom was muttering nervously to himself. The others mainly kept to themselves, with the exception of the two racausous hobbits, and Legolas and himself.

Aragorn was the last to arrive, looking, for once, unsure of himself, yet only to those with the sharpest eyes, so Meldarion was sure none but Legolas, Elrond and himself picked up on it.

Other elves arrived from out of the elven buildings, as well as another hobbit and some dwarves – the other men having set left in the month's wait. The dwarves had stayed on Gloin's orders, to see the fellowship off.

He approached then, speaking several words to Gimli before approaching the two elves in the companionship.

He sized legolas up briefly, causing the elf to raise a sculpted eyebrow in amusement, before he said gruffly, "Take care of him, elf."

Legolas laughed softly but nodded, "Have no worries dwarf, he will not leave my sight."

Meldarion looked at the dwarf – whom he noticed to his frustration, was slightly taller than himself – before smiling brightly at him.

"Thank you Gloin. For your…" he floundered for a moment, looking at legolas for assistance but he just gave him a nudge of encouragement. "…help."

If his mouth had not been obscured by the grissly beard, he was sure he would have had a clear view of his yellowy teeth.

"You're learning common tongue child! Good on you, no need to keep speaking that rubbish!"

He didn't seem to notice as Meldarion turned to look at legolas, nonplussed as to what had just been said to him.

Giving a loud laugh and a slap on Meldarion's back, he paced back to his companions and they departed, not even waiting to see the fellowship leave.

"_What did he say?"_ Meldarion questioned legolas curiously.

Legolas shook his head before looking down at him, _"He said… that you are very good at westron and should come visit him in his home. That will not happen though, dwarves are notorious drunks!"_

Those gathered who spoke the fair-tongue laughed lightly at Legolas' words, while the rest looked round nervously, wondering if they were the one to be laughed at.

Finally Elrond, who had been speaking with Gandalf and Glorfindel until then, turned back to the fellowship and smiled.

"It is time. You have each chosen to contribute your skills to this task, representing the elves, man, hobbits and dwarves. You have no commitment to this task, so at any point you may abandon the journey and head back to your own realms again. But if you choose to continue this journey through to the conclusion, you must remember everything that we are still fighting for, all the free peoples of middle earth are depending on the outcome of this one task. If this is not completed, then the dark lord sauron will conquer the entirity of our world. There shall be no safe havens then."

He took a moment to look over the fellowship, staring into each of their eyes searchingly before closing his eyes in resignation and nodding, "may the Valar be with you." (1)

Slowly, the fellowship turned and began to walk from the courtyard, the hobbit named Frodo, who carried the ring, leading the way.

He looked up from the paven road when they stopped briefly.

Frodo looked to Gandalf, and meldarion could just distinguish that the hobbit was asking which was he was to go.

Meldarion smiled, it was small things like that, that would make the journey just that slight bit more enjoyable.

* * *

Meldarion soon found, after several days of travelling, that he wasn't as in-shape as he had been. His new body was not used to long distance treking and, as his legs were much shorter now, it took more energy to repeatedly lift and drop each foot.

He wasn't the only one. The hobbits seemed to have trouble with the quick pace that Gandalf set, no doubt not used to such labourous journeys. Yet, unlike himself, they didn't have a tall, blonde elf as a mate who absolutely _forced_ him to ride on his back when he thought it was too much for him. Not that Meldarion minded, he found it relaxing to doze on legolas' back, breathing in the woody scent with each breath.

When he walked Legolas strode right beside him, waiting for the time he could call it appropriate to pick the elfling up again and carry him on his back.

During this time, meldarion first spoke with the hobbits, Merriadoc and Perigrin – or Merry and Pippin as they prefered to be called. They talked a lot, and very quickly, and meldarion soon found his neck developing a painful crick as he flicked it from side to side, trying to look at the speaker.

He was thankful when legolas spoke to them, telling them to slow down as he wouldn't understand them otherwise. After that they did their best to speak slowly and consissely, allowing Meldarion to pick out over half of what they were saying. Merry and Pippin joined in his resumed language lessons with legolas from then on.

It was almost two weeks after they'd left that Meldarion finally got the chance to speak with Gandalf alone. They were approaching the mountains and it was getting more dangerous, especially with wolves around and, despite his protestation, he was not allowed to take his share of the watches, something Legolas was obstinant his refusal, and both Gimli and Boromir were scathing of.

They had set up camp at the base of the mountain and, having reached the much colder climate, Legolas had firmly wrapped himself and blankets around his mate before settling down himself, not having any watches to complete that night.

It was the early morning Meldarion woke up from a familiar sensation occuring nearby him. His eyes, having remained open while he slept, became more focussed and he blinked once before they locked onto the image of Gandalf sitting by the fire, the flames casting light and shadows across his face.

"_So you felt that Meldarion? You are much more in tune with your magic and the magic around you than myself.' _He looked into the elfling's eyes and sighed before motioning him over.

Very slowly and carefully, Meldarion extracted himself from the protective elf's embrace and took a seat by the fire. The older wizard smiled at him benignly, taking a moment to look over him.

_"How are you coping with the trip so far? I know we've set a hard pace but I'm sure you understand the urgency."_

"_I'm keeping up, Legolas helps me everyday." _He cast a fond look at the sleeping elf. _"It's strange to be this reliant on anyone else. In my past life, I was very much on my own. I had two friends who stuck with me, but they would never have to deal with the burden I did. I'm sure Frodo will feel very much the same way soon, if he doesn't now."_

They both took a moment to stare at the young hobbit, sleeping slightly apart from the rest of the group. After several moments Meldarion diverted his eyes with a sad sigh.

_"So it has already begun. I don't think the rest of them understand the severity of the task. They are young."_

Gandalf laughed, _"Yet you are still younger."_

"_I don't feel it Gandalf. I have an eternity to live, and I already felt like I've lived more than my share, seen and done more than I should have needed to. And yet, as soon as I finish my task, I ask for another one and end up here!"_ he gave a humourous laugh.

"_Do you regret your choice?"_ his eyes strayed back to the blonde elf and Meldarion found his eyes quickly followed before a tender smile crossed his young face.

_"Of course not. As long as he is still there, I don't think I could regret a thing."_

"_As long as he is still there…"_ Gandalf muttered reflectively before sighing once again, allowing the flickers of the fire to enhance the wrinkles on his face.

" _I have… a bad feeling Meldarion. Something is telling me that I may not be around to lead the fellowship much longer." _Meldarion cast him a shocked glance before looking suspicious.

_"I won't leave you willingly my boy! But some things cannot be prevented, such is the nature of life."_

"_I'm sorry Gandalf, too many people have left me in the past, it left me slightly paranoid."_

"_Think nothing of it Meldarion, but you need to get over your past. You have a new life here, nothing from that life can affect you now."_ Silently Meldarion nodded in agreement before shivering slightly. In response Gandalf aimed his staff at the fire, causing the flames to jump higher.

"_I won't keep you for much longer, no doubt Legolas is a very effective heater."_ He chuckled at the embarrassed flush that crossed his face. _"But I need to know that someone could lead them in my absence. We will pass over the mountains soon, and head for Lorien. The elves will be more than willing to accommodate us on our quest. From them we will seek boats to carry us down the Anduin River until we reach __Parth Galen. Then we would face the choice. Carry the boats round the falls or continue on foot. Do not be tempted by the Dead Marshes. Such is the path of a fool to their death. Only one who knows the path of the marshes can pass that trial alive. Continue to follow the river until you near Osgiliath. Whatever you do Meldarion, this is the most crucial thing I could say, do _not _enter Minas Tirith. The ring cannot enter that city for there are men there who would smite the bearer down in a second to 'conquer' the ring of Sauron. That is the greed of man. Do your hardest to avoid being seen by anyone of the city, they will attempt to hold you as potential enemies, even with Boromir's presence. Boromir himself will be hardest to lead. He does not accept well the authority of others, and his loyalty to his father and home is admirable, but condemning. He would have you go to Gondor, to rest before storming Mordor, to receive the hospitalities of his father. His father will receive you, but people in standings such as yourself would not be allowed to leave again untethered. He seeks his own place in history and would gift Sauron the world with his foolery. No, it is best to avoid that city. Circle round Osgiliath, try not to be seen – I'm sure you have some magic in your to prevent that!"_

Meldarion nodded thoughtfully.

"_East of Osgiliath there is the Morgul Vale and at the far eastern end of that,there is a passage into Mordor. Do not assume it is unguarded, you would need great planning, skill and luck to get through unscathed. The great Shelob guards the caverns, having resided there for many ages. You would do well to sneak passed her unnoticed, but do as you can. This is the only way into Mordor short of storming the gates and forcing entrance. There is a guard tower near the exit of the caverns, but provided you time your attempt properly, you shouldn't have many difficulties circumnavigating around it. From there you must traverse the barren plains to Mt. Doom. This is the only place for which I can give you no advice. Once you arrive there it will be up to you to decide how to complete the task." He sighed wearily, shaking his head. "But I can ask nothing more of you than to take them as far as you can. I'm sorry to place this on you, my boy. But I can feel your strength, you are the only one who can ensure the completion of this task with my absence. I am sorry Meldarion."_

He could do nothing but nod in grim acceptance. He didn't want to lead the fellowship, that was the job that Gandalf undertook, but if he was the one Gandalf entrusted the task to, then he would do so to the best of his ability. Call it his Gryffindor spirit.

With a final nod to Gandalf, he pulled himself up from the damp grass he had been sat on and slowly eased himself back into Legolas' arms, closing his eyes from habit as he tried to fall asleep.

* * *

(1) I realised, rereading this chapter, that that was rather Star Wars-y, wasn't it. Oh well.

Hope that satisfied your innate hunger for more! and hope it lived up to expectations! although i suppose there was very little action in this chapter, the same for romance, but it can't be action and snogging all the time!

till next time!


	5. Chapter 4

**PLEASE DO TAKE A MINUTE TO READ THE NOTES HERE, OUT OF COURTESY IF NOTHING ELSE!!! IT DOES EXPLAIN SOME POINTS PEOPLE HAVE BEEN ASKING ABOUT!!!**

Reviewer of the week goes to AkumaRule!!!

Thanks for your amazing feedback, and making me question and analyse my writing until I get it in shape!

Just a mention to Von, even though they won't read this. Your review was very appreciated and I'm glad you liked my starting. I understand your reasoning though, as that is one of the things that I struggle writing the most as well, I find it hard to picture.

I've also had a lot of comments about the fact that Harry is going to be leading the fellowship. All I'm going to say is not to place any bets!

A lot of people have asked what Meldarion means as well. Keep on forgetting to mention this! It is to my belief, and DO correct me if I'm wrong, that it means 'beloved'. I had a list of several names to choose from, but thought that one sounded the nicest as a name.

Now, to make excuses about the huge wait... um... *struggles to think up something*... nope I'm out. I can only say that school has been really hard, I'm trying to do four advanced highers if you know what they are (basically it's the equivalent of suicide) and this chapter was being really stubborn. I'm still not happy with it at all, but can tell it's not going to get any better.

Thank you for all the amazing reviews, alerts or favourites, it means so much that people like this story. But I would just like to mention how amazingly pleased I was when I got an alert from **'Sin Maxwell and Co.'** I appreciate all that I get, but to have an alert from possibly one of my favourite authors... it was just amazing. Thanks must go to her for making me update this! If you haven't read all the amazing stories she's written, then don't bother reading this chapter, go and read her stuff!!!

But really, I do appreciate all the reviews etc. and I hope that this chapter will possibly make up slightly for the long wait!

NOTE, th espeech in italics is in elvish, I didn't make that clear before! Apologies.

Anyway, this chapter has been put off for a very long time, so best get it underway!

Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter and LoTR's as much as any of you do. Let's face it, it's not like J. K. Rowling or J. R. R. Tolkien are going to be reading this fic!

* * *

**Here come the drums, here come the drums!**

It had been an understatement to say they were disappointed when they found Saruman to be watching their passage through the Gap of Rohan. Meldarion found himself giving an involuntary shiver as Gandalf turned his eyes to the snow topped peak several miles to their east.

"_Is there anywhere you can reach in this place without crossing a bloody mountain?" _Meldarion grouched to himself, ignoring the snickers from Legolas and humoured grin from Aragorn.

"_It's too dangerous to pass so close to Isenguard with Saruman watching us. This is the only other way," _Legolas explained simply.

If he thought that would erase the frown from Meldarion's face he was mistaken, and the elfling just muttered once more under his breath.

"_I'd rather take Saruman then go up _that_!"_

Legolas simply shook his head while they began their trek to the – bloody – mountain.

The mountain proved as arduous as it looked. The trails were badly laid and steep. Rather quickly Meldarion found himself swept onto Legolas' back, arms supporting his thighs.

"_I'm seventeen Legolas! I can walk fine for this part at least on my own!"_

He received a smirk in reply, "Your legs are still even shorter than the dwarf's! He can struggle by himself, but it is my right to carry you up this mountain!"

Meldarion had no doubts over why he had spoken in Westron as the blood rushed to Gimli's face and he spluttered out a retort.

"And every other mountain, I'm sure! You just like using my size against me! When I finish growing I'll be so much taller than you, and we'll see how you like being looked down upon!"

When Legolas didn't even spare him a glance at his announcement he resorted to being petty, and gave a hard yank on the blonde's long hair.

* * *

They were partway up the mountain now and, unlike a fully-grown elf, Meldarion found that the cold was still very much cold. Not just a tad nippy, like Legolas must think it to be, as he carried him wrapped in furs, looking as if he were merely strolling through Lothlorien!

If Meldarion could bring up the energy to pull away from the nice heater commonly known as Legolas' chest, he would tell the elf he should be wrapping up warmer in weather like this, if just for a reason to complain to the seemingly perfect elf.

However he found himself perfectly content being carried up the mountain above the snow, rather than through it, all the while sending cocky grins back at the dwarf as he continued to struggle when the snow grew taller than him. He did feel pity for the hobbits though, they were hardly made for this sort of weather, and their hairy little feet were turning blue from the cold, hard ground.

And just when Meldarion began to think the journey couldn't get much worse, a fell voice echoed through the air, stirring the mountain to fall.

Instantaneously Gandalf began chanting a counter, but the strength of Saruman was not to be beaten and quickly blocks of frozen ice began to rain down on their heads.

Meldarion glanced round hopelessly as Legolas hurriedly forced him against the mountainside before the first chunk hit. With the elf protecting him, the others were left at risk, being unable to move quickly in the deep snow.

His eyes widened as the snow crashed down onto Gimli, Boromir, Sam, Merry and Pippin. The black figures of Boromir – holding Merry and Pippin – and Gimli were visible through the snow to his eyes, but he glanced each direction trying to spot the kind hobbit Sam.

A fearful yell of the blonde's name from Frodo drew his attention to the cliff edge as the halfling began to fall in slow motion, his eyes widening in realisation of his impending doom.

Legolas dropped him roughly to the ground and threw himself bodily after the hobbit.

With hardly a thought after seeing his mate's legs disappear off the cliff edge, Meldarion summoned his magic and without a moment's pause shouted the first words that came to his mind.

"Accio Legolas and Sam!!!"

Instantaneously he felt the power drain of summoning such large objects, moving in the opposite direction to him at high speeds. His small body was hardly adept at managing it but he persevered and ignored the sharp bite of pain as his fingernails cut into his palms and his lip bled into his mouth.

Two blonde heads suddenly flew onto the path again, what seemed like hours later, and slammed head first into his torso, driving him backwards into the solid ice wall and forcing the breath out of him.

Within a split second Legolas was kneeling next to him, pushing Sam off him none too gently before gently easing him up. A gentle finger wiped his chin, surprising him when it drew back with blood. The impact must have been a lot harder than he had thought if he had bitten so harshly into his lip.

A gentle kiss was placed on his lower lip before Legolas hoisted him up into his arms again, quickly gathering the furs. As he finished tucking them around his small form again, the men turned to Gandalf, the hobbits huddled against each of them.

"It is too dangerous Gandalf, Saruman will not less us pass this way!" Aragorn cried.

"No, we must continue, there is no other way!"

"We should go through Moria! My cousin Balin would host a feast worthy of even _you_ master Elf and elfling" he spoke proudly, though the later part with scorn as well.

"We would be enjoying the comforts of fine ale and red meat! And the hot fires of the mine, giving us a warm rest after this fool's task! A mountain, Gandalf? When we could travel much quicker, and in such great company through the mines!"

Meldarion's eyes narrowed as Gandalf glanced from Gimli to Frodo and his eyes creased in resignation.

"We will let the ring bearer decide."

* * *

"Soon, master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone! This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin, and they call it a mine. A mine!"

The dwarf's voice echoed through the barren entrance hall as the two elves scanned the area around them with a scowl, stood side-by-side.

"This isn't a mine…" Legolas began.

"It's a tome."

At Meldarion's words, two bright lights lit simultaneously from the wand and staff, illuminating the cavern and the many scattered bones.

Meldarion bowed his head respectfully, as Legolas pulled an arrow from the eye-socket of a nearby skull.

"Goblins! We should leave… Now!"

Meldarion turned, his small legs traversing the stone floor quickly, leaving the mine along side the hobbits. Looking around him as the rest exited to take account of everyone, he gave a shriek, lunching at Frodo as a tentacle crept out of the water, wrapping itself around empty space as Frodo was pushed to the ground by the force of the lunge.

With an almighty roar, a great sea monster thrust from the water, tens more tentacles flying simultaneously at the group gathering on the side of the lake.

The second attempt the monster achieved a firm grasp round Frodo, hoisting him into the air by his arm, the two elves of the group hearing the small pop as the shoulder was dislocated.

As suddenly as the beast had attacked, the rest of the fellowship were on it, shooting arrows and hacking at the great limbs whilst Meldarion fired cutting hexes at it, ignoring the spray of blood falling through the air. With a great slash from Aragorn, the tentacle holding Frodo collapsed, leaving the halfling to fall to the stony ground until Meldarion caught him with the levitation charm.

However, in his concentration on Frodo, and the monster's writhing agony, he was a split-second too slow in dodging as a giant appendage flew at him, ploughing him backwards into the cavern once more. He felt his back hit the stone steps several meters in, and his head connecting with them soon after.

Legolas darted after him as Gandalf ordered them back to follow.

Blinking away the darkness at the edge of his vision, Meldarion allowed himself to be crushed against Legolas' chest as his hands quickly checked him over for injuries. Both elves winced as his hand came from the back of Meldarion's head with blood smeared lightly across it.

"It's not too bad Legolas. It'll heal soon enough."

Although he looked disbelieving, Legolas gave him a sharp nod before abruptly sweeping him up and into his arms as the fellowship gathered to Gandalf, his beaming staff making Meldarion's small wand seem frail and weak in comparison – though both wizards knew otherwise.

"We have no choice now, we must brave the mines. Keep a sharp ear on our surroundings. There is far worse than goblins in these mines."

Meldarion couldn't help the snort, even predicting the dirty looks he received, "_That's right Gandalf, make us all even more terrified of the pitch black caves!_"

Those who understood him allowed a small chuckle of laughter at his sarcasm, even Gandalf.

* * *

They had been travelling through the mines for three days when, with a startled yell, Gimli ran from the group into a side room from the grand hall they stood in.

"Gimli!" Gandalf yelled, following him swiftly.

With their guide walking away from them, the rest of the fellowship had no choice but to follow as well, entering the tome of Balin to find Gimli crouched by the stone sarcophagus placed in the centre of the small room.

They all listened as Gandalf read from the diary of a dead-man on the fall of the dwarves of Moria.

There was several seconds' silence as he finished, broken suddenly and cataclysmically by the clanging of a skull as it moved down a well and towards the chasms below.

Meldarion was the only one to move as the other's stood stock still with baited breath. He leapt clean across the room, firing a 'silencio' down the well and cutting off the crashing as the rest of the skeleton and chain fell after it.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time!!!" Gandalf cried scornfully at the grimacing hobbit. With one last sneer, he turned to lead them from the room when they all stopped, silenced by the echoing. The drums.

There were several seconds of silence, broken by the merciless banging of the drums, growing ever louder and closer.

Then suddenly, Aragorn, Boromir and Gandalf leapt forwards. Legolas began to move, but suddenly halted when Meldarion gave a weak moan, folding forwards and clenching both hands to his chest.

"G-Gandalf!" he gasped, brokenly, the sound catching the wizard's attention as the two men barred the doors with old spears and swords.

"Something… something's coming. Something else. It's so strong. The fire and shadows! The strength of it, it crushes against you, tossing you around like a puppet!" suddenly his face took on a look of terror. "I can't fight that Gandalf", his eyes wide in frenzied panic, "There is no way…" he faded out but from the look in Gandalf's eyes it was easy to see that he knew what Meldarion was trying to convey.

The balrog had stirred.

The drums were getting louder. Closer.

"Open the doors! Open them!"

Aragorn and Boromir turned from where they had been continuously piling weapons, pondering whether Gandalf had finally lost his mind.

"But Gandalf, the orcs are-"

"Do as I say! We stand no chance if we stay here." his eyes conveyed the severity of his words, "Our only chance is to run. Passed the bridge of Khazad-dûm and out of this retched mine before it reaches us."

He left a small pause as the company continued to stare at him, his face suddenly adopting the expression of a weary old man, tired of the continual struggle. Then it was gone, and he had a determined glint to his eyes as he spoke again.

"I fear even I would struggle to stop a Balrog."

With the explanation of what was approaching the two men set to work tearing their fortifications down again, before Gandalf ordered them aside, blasting the wood from the door with several almighty splinters.

"Legolas, carry Meldarion. He is more sensitive to our magic's still, and the Balrog is overcoming him with its foul aura."

Not needing any further persuasion, Legolas hefted the small elf into his arms, following the elder wizard out the door with the hobbits, Aragorn and Boromir guarding their rear.

It was easy to see that the hobbits were terrified, their flight taking them closer to the drumming than before. But each of them had heard the terrors of the Balrog from Bilbo, and knew that it had taken a great amount for Glorfindel to be able to throw down a balrog. To meet one themselves would most likely end their quest now.

It was because of this they continued to run towards the drums, petrified as they saw the flicker of torches, silhouetting the vile creatures against the walls; magnifying and distorting their shapes to make creatures even more abominable.

Then suddenly Gandalf led them right, directing them out of the great pillared hall and down a short passage way before exiting in a great cavern, an enormous ravine running the length of it with nothing but a meter wide bridge to cross the company from one side to the other.

But there was no time to take in the sheer scale of the architecture, as arrows immediately rained down upon them, forcing them onwards and down the crumbling flights of stairs leading to the bridge.

With a trembling elf in his arms, Legolas followed Gandalf down the stairs, letting the wizard's sword knock any projectiles coming their way aside. They had barely reached the base of the bridge when Aragorn gave a frightful yell.

"Frodo!"

The fellowship turned simultaneously, watching as the ranger scooped the hobbit up, as an arrow fell from his chest, over his wound from the Morgul blade. A white pallor overtook his skin and his breath came out in course breaths before he forcefully blinked and shook away the pain.

"I'm fine Aragorn, we must keep moving!"

Shocked, and giving the hobbit a doubtful glance he put him back on his feet, a hand on his back as they both began to move again.

It was at that moment the arrow-fire stopped, and a great beast of fire and shadow sprung into the cavern, landing on the stairway they had stood upon minutes before.

A great pallor overcame the fellowship, watching as the great beast stretched it's back, bellowing a monstrous shriek, eyes set upon the group of ten.

It cried again, arching backwards before placing it's arms on the ground and launched itself onto a set of stairs tens of meters away, crumbling the ones it left with it's monstrous strength.

A sudden, wounded scream for Meldarion, his hands still clenching his chest as his knuckles turned white, removed the trance from the fellowship, and with a bellow, Gandalf forced them across the bridge, running at a pace normally unthinkable for such a small diameter.

It was as they reached the opposite side that they realised Gandalf had halted halfway across. The old wizard sent a significant look at Meldarion, though he was demented to notice it.

It was as the wizard began to summon his magic that Meldarion was drawn from his petrified stupor. The grey wizards power began battling with the infinite strength of the balrog, preventing it from terrorizing the elfling further.

His eyes suddenly focussed, startling the blonde elf as he suddenly twisted from his arms.

"Gandalf!" he began to make his way to assist the wizard, drawing his wand at his first step.

"No Meldarion! Run. Take the rest of them and leave. I will take care of this!"

Meldarion hesitated for a moment, and in that second Gandalf echoed the damning words to the balrog, for the third time:

"You shall not pass!"

The wooden staff slammed into the bridge, the crystal held at the end glowing intensely as the great beast took a step forwards, only for the bridge to collapse under it's feet, sending it plunging into the infinite chasm.

Meldarion let out a sigh of relief, hardly noticing as arrows began to bombard the group again, nor as Legolas and Aragorn returned the attack at the orcs.

He smiled as the wizard turned around to face them, looking weary but relieved. They made eye contact with each other as Gandalf took one step towards them.

Meldarion's smile fell, as a crack echoed from the fissure and a single streak of flame leapt up and entangled itself around Gandalf's leg.

With a harsh thud, Gandalf hung at the edge of the bridge, staring at them through tangles of silver hair.

"Run, you fools."

And he fell.

* * *

The balrog is slightly different, more agile, than the one in the film. I rather liked having it more like an hugely bigger version of Ifrit, but only in the way it can curve it's back and pounce, if that makes any sense? I thought the one from the film - which was amazing, very well created - was too stiff, so I made my balrog more bendy :)

Hope it was worth the long wait! (even if I didn't really like this chapter myself)


	6. Chapter 5

Sorry the chapter's a bit shorter than usual, but that was the best place to stop. If I had gone further then it would have been much longer, and taken another few months XD. About the long delay… SORRY!!! I'm absolutely rubbish at updating within a week or whatever these other amazing authors do!

But please please PLEASE tell me what you think of this chapter, cause this is where things start getting more interesting. A lot of people have said up until now it was a potential 'follow the exact same plot as LotR's but add Harry Potter in'. so let me know how you think the development is, cause there is actually development in this chapter!

Anyway, I'll stop babbling, on with the story!!!

Disclaimer: If I owned them, I would merge the two books into one 'The Lord of the Horcruxes' (don't slaughter me for forgetting the plural!!!) and Voldie would be good, possibly in a threesome with Harry and Legolas… Now there's an idea!!!

* * *

Resolve

'_I need to know that someone could lead them in my absence.'_

After what seemed to Meldarion like a lifetime of silence, staring at the spot Gandalf had hung to for but seconds, the old wizard's words filtered through his head again. He shook himself. Gandalf had entrusted their success to him and had sacrificed himself to get them passed this hurdle. His face set into a resolute frown as sound returned to him. The fellowship was shaken; Frodo was trying to return for Gandalf, even though there was little hope for the man. The orcs were still firing at them.

Decisively Meldarion turned to face them again.

"Run, now!"

Without waiting to see them obey, Meldarion turned to face the rocks from which the orcs fired at them, his magic welling up within him and a dark curse forcing itself from his lips.

"_Deflagratio Infernum_"

For several seconds he stood, silently listening to the tortured screams emitted from the orcs as the flames consumed them, watched as the serpents and chimeras consumed them with gluttonous relish. Then, once more, he shook himself and chased after the fellowship, hardly noticing the shudder in his steps, the pallor and cold sweat that crept across his skin or the blood that dripped from his abused lower lip.

He turned as the sun hit his eyes – the light causing him to squint – and cast a quick demolition spell to destroy the exit.

He hardly noticed the eyes of most of the fellowship on him when he turned, blackness already creeping across his vision.

"_No orcs will follow us._"

Then he collapsed.

* * *

There was a great aura of mourning around them as the fellowship entered the woods of Lothlorien, Meldarion huddled against Legolas' chest in his exhausted sleep. There had been several moments of panic after he collapsed, until Aragorn informed them that he was just out of energy from using powerful magic and probably the strain the Balrog's dark magic put on him. He would wake up in his own time. Now though, the fellowship were forced to listen to Gimli bemoan elves – particularly Meldarion – with Boromir adding a snide taunt every few minutes, glaring darkly at the young elf. Aragorn watched, silently, as the metaphorical tick on Legolas' forehead became bigger as the dwarf continued.

"Cease your insistent babbling, dwarf! You had best learn to hold your tongue to Meldarion when in elven lands!"  
Gimli bristled angrily at the blonde's words. "I will say what I think, elf! It's thanks to _him_ that Gandalf is no long here to lead us!"

"Meldarion was not the one to say we should go through the mines! Dwarven hospitality indeed!" And as furious as he was, Legolas could not stop himself from spitting at the dwarves feet, glaring hatefully at the smaller being.

Furiously the dwarf drew his axe, raising it in preparation for a swing at the blonde as Legolas drew an elvish blade, holding Meldarion in the other arm comfortably.

"Gimli!" Aragorn reprimanded sharply, about to take a step forward to end the conflict when suddenly elves materialized from the overgrowth, within seconds of dazed staring on the fellowships behalf, forming a tight circle around the dwarf, arrows knocked, aimed straight at the bearded dwarf's head. Simultaneously, a hand fell against Legolas' right shoulder and the green-garbed elf spoke, "A dwarf is not worth your blade, my friend"

Firmly sliding his blade back into its sheath, Legolas shifted his mate back into both arms before turning to greet Haldir.

"It is worth my blade and bow when he insults my mate," he responded heatedly, as Haldir took in the young elf held tightly to his chest.

"So it is as Lady Galadriel said, you bring an elfling…" Haldir whispered, his eyes misty at the sight of elvish innocence. However mere seconds later he snaps back to attention, turning to look at the mishmash group, "The dwarf may not enter any further into Lothlorien. The rest of you are welcomed."

Aragorn immediately jumped forward to dispute this with the warden, glancing at Legolas for support, but the elven prince turned his head, remaining impassive until Meldarion began to shift in his arms and his bright green eyes opened, blinking in exhaustion as he took in the surroundings, his fingers absentmindedly tracing a pattern on his mate's arm.

"Let him come please sir. He doesn't mean whatever he said. He is a dwarf, they speak without thought." Meldarion allowed a pause to take a breath as the fellowship and Haldir turned to look at him, the other elves remaining fixed on Gimli. "The fellowship needs to hold true to one another now more than ever, and we need to rest and restock our supplies in safety. Please let us pass, sir."

Haldir seemed to struggle with himself for several moments before motioning the guards to stand down.

"Very well, he will be allowed to enter if that is your wish, elfling. But he will be blindfolded."

And instantly, Aragorn began to argue on behalf of the dwarf once more, stating it unfair for the dwarf only to be blindfolded, gaining them all the privilege.

As Legolas began to protest, Meldarion placed his hand flat on his arm to silence him and leant to his ear to whisper "_Visum Per_" before slouching bonelessly back into his arms.

Seconds later he let his eyes flicker shut as the soft fabric was tied tightly around his eyes before opening them out of instinct and letting out a small gasp, looking at Meldarion in shock. However the young elfling had already slipped back into sleep, leaving Legolas to admire the green tinted world he could see through the material.

He allowed a grin, bending to lightly kiss Meldarion's brow before turning to face Haldir who was observing curiously.

Unable to resist, Legolas strode confidently to the warden and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Shall we depart?"

His grin widened just slightly more at the disbelieving look on Haldir's face.

* * *

Meldarion slept right through the fellowship's meeting with Lady Galadriel, though several noticed the slight flinch that ran through his otherwise still body as the Lady probed through each of the fellowship's minds'. When he did wake, he was laying on a springy bed of moss, draped in an elvish cloak. A muscular arm lay lightly over his waist, and he made use of the light touch of his elvish heritage to remove it. The elfling took several moments to take in the mythical surroundings, before taking account of his companions. The hobbits slept together in the eves of a large white mallorn tree, well three of them were. Meldarion turned sharply as light pattering footfall approached, to find the fourth hobbit walking back into the camp. His eyes showed no surprise at seeing Meldarion awake and he managed a tight smile.

"_Lady Galadriel wishes to see you. She says you will find her_."

Meldarion nodded once, making his way out of the camp in the direction Frodo had returned from. A minute after he left, Legolas pushed himself up, leaving the camp quickly in the other direction, ignoring Frodo's probing eyes.

"_The trees are not happy that one of their children is on such a quest"_ the lady spoke as he entered the clearing she stood in, observing the trees moving above her. _"Nor are the elves._"

"_It is not my job to make other people happy."_

She gave a tight-lipped smile at his response before approaching him with graceful lilt, stopping in front of him and looking down.

_"So young yet so strong. And to have already found your mate before the age of even fifty human years! The uninformed would call you lucky."_

He levelled her with a flat stare, _"And what would you call me?"_

She gave another tight-lipped smile and a nod, _"Uninformed."_

Before he could reply she took his hand loosely in hers and led him back to the centre of the clearing to stand beside a small basin.

"_Would you look in the mirror?"_

"_What would I see if I were to do so?"_

This time her smile was humoured, though Meldarion could not understand why.

_"I cannot say what the mirror will show, only that it will be the past, present or future"_

_"Then I would decline. What the future holds is not to be meddled with. Those who see their future will inevitably try to change it for the better, and make it worse for all in the long-term. I will not suffer myself that temptation."_

Galadriel stood for several moments with a blank face, observing the determined elfling before her, finally nodding in acceptance.

_"I will not argue against such a strong determination. Return to your camp. You could do with the rest Little One."_

He nodded, giving her a thankful smile before making his way back up the steps to the camp.

Galadriel gave a small sigh, _"If only you had looked, Young One. Then you would have been able to prevent it, and many things would turn out for the better. Now, no-one can predict what will happen, for the fellowship is breaking."_

* * *

Elsewhere, the tall blonde princeling made his way quickly through the trees, slipping swiftly through the low hanging branches until he found the other blonde elf waiting in a clearing.

_"You wanted to talk, Haldir?"_

The more muscular wood-elf nodded, staring at the waiting elf for several minutes before nodding once more.

_"You will continue with your journey soon?"_

"_Now Meldarion is awake and we are restocked with supplies I expect Aragorn will want to depart in a day, two at most. We have boats now to take us down the river, and from there we will make our way to Mordor."_

The elven warden stood in stony silence for several moments again before asking the question about the true purpose of this meeting.

_"Meldarion will be going with you?"_

Haldir had expected the archer to immediately nod, and to adamantly refuse anything else, however he simply nodded, before looking down, slightly troubled.

_"Would it not be better than he remain here? With our people who can protect him? You told us yourself how the Balrog affected him, and his body is unable to contain the level of magic that he needed to simply cave in a stone entrance! He is not suited to such hardship! He hasn't even reached his second decade! You cannot allow him to-"_

"_It is not my choice!!! Meldarion is determined in his choice to continue with the quest. He knows the dangers that we will face!"_

"_Are you certain! He knows little of this world! Has anyone explained to him what your journey involves? That you will all most likely die, after being tortured to insanity for standing against the Dark Lord Sauron?"_

"_You have so little faith in our quest?!? You condemn our attempts to end this battle while you stay in the forests, refusing to stand for your people?"_

"_I will stand when the Lady decides it is time! And I do have faith in the task you have been assigned, but I would not have an elfling go when it could spell his death!"_

Their voices had rose steadily as they fought each other, getting closer and closer until there were spare inches separating the two. Suddenly, Legolas backed down, transforming from raged to uncertain in a split second.

_"I know that also, but I cannot leave him, and he would not have me leave him. He would never forgive me if I forced him to remain behind. I would never have his love as I do now."_

Haldir calmed, placing a comforting hand on the distressed elf's shoulder, _"is it not more important, that he stays safe. He would forgive you eventually. And would you not rather that, than you saw his death before your eyes, and despite your best attempts, you could not save him? You must do what is best for him, whether he recognises that or not?"_

Legolas stood still, unresponsive until Haldir squeezed his shoulder, offering a pouch of leaves.

_"He will be safe here, I will ensure it. Will you do what is best for him?"_

Legolas gave no reply, and Haldir was just about to remove his arm and exit the clearing when Legolas' other hand rose, taking the leaves from his palm and slipping them into his tunic pocket.

_"Forgive me, Meldarion."_

The fellowship woke early the next morning – those who didn't were woken by a cranky blonde elf, though they were all confused as to why he was so frustrated. Aragorn told the group the plan as they ate a breakfast of fruits provided by the elves, each ignoring the grumblings from the dwarf.

Meldarion sat back, observing the interactions between the group, acknowledging that everyone looked to Aragorn as their leader now Gandalf was gone. He nodded mentally to himself in decision: once they were out of the elven haven and camped for the night, he would speak to Aragorn alone and instruct him on Gandalf's plan. There was no need for Meldarion to try and disrupt their group and fight to gain their agreement when Aragorn could easily distribute the orders without trouble.

Aragorn had planned to lead the across the Dead Marshes, something Gandalf had condemned, but Meldarion let it go just now, beginning to pack his belongings again when Aragorn dismissed them to do so.

A hand trailed down his arm, tearing him from his thoughts and he looked up into the blue eyes of his mate, smiling.

_"Could I speak with you alone, Meldarion? There is something I need to say."_

He nodded happily, gripping the hand that led his tightly,_ "I need to ask you something as well."_

Legolas ignored the pointed look Aragorn sent him as he led Meldarion from their camp, taking several minutes until he reached the clearing he had stood in with Haldir the previous night.

_"What was it you wanted to ask first, Meldarion?"_ he asked lovingly, cupping the elfling's face with his palm.

The elfling blushed a delicate pink across his cheeks, _"We will most likely be encountering men from hereon. I really liked my Westron lessons, and you were a great teacher, but I would like to cheat in a way, just for in case anything terrible should happen and we get separated. If you would let me, I would enter your head and extract the language from there. I wouldn't look at anything else and it wouldn't hurt at all!"_ he said the last part quickly, staring wide-eyed at the taller elf, in case of misunderstanding.

_"If that is what you wish, then you may."_ Legolas replied, finding it hard to bring himself to do what he was about to do to the little elf after his great concern for him.

Meldarion smiled that beaming smile of his and motioned Legolas to bend down, placing his hands on either side of Legolas' forehead. The elder elf hardly noticed as the two small hands began to glow light yellow, as his mind began running through the entire Westron language in a matter of seconds.

He blinked, attempting to clear the weightless feeling from his head when it finished, responding automatically to catch Meldarion as he fell.

_"Are you alright?"_

Meldarion smiled up at him, responding in Common Tongue, _"_I'm fine, don't worry. It's just the sheer amount of information suddenly entering my head leaves me a bit off-kilter."

Legolas nodded, swallowing a painful lump before speaking, "Then if you would allow me to add to that problem?"

He stood the little elf on his feet, an arm on either side of him until he was sure he would remain balanced. Then he lowered himself to a knee, remaining level with his mate and pulling a silver band from his pocket.

"Meldarion, you are my mate, my everything. It is soon still, and we have much time to be together, but I would like to ask now, before anything else happens, if… you would agree to marry me, when everything is over with?"

The black haired elf gasped, his small hands reaching up to his heart and clasping uselessly into the fabric.

"You… You actually want me that much? Enough to spend your life with me?"

"To spend my life and eternity with you, my Meldarion, my beloved."

Tears sprang into his eyes, and Meldarion threw his arms around Legolas' neck, whispering softly in his ear, "Yes, definitely yes! Thank you so much!"

Legolas tried to smile happily at the elfling as he slipped the silver band with a single emerald and a celtic design on either side onto the small finger.

He allowed himself a guilty smile as he watched Meldarion admire the ring from different angles, giggling happily when the light hit it in different ways.

"There is something else that I have for you."

Meldarion looked up, the smile on his face uncontainable, though drooping slightly when he noticed the look on Legolas' face. He nodded simply, his right hand running across his left fingers, circling the silver band.

"Close your eyes."  
Meldarion obliged and Legolas quickly soaked a cloth in the mixture made from the leaves Haldir provided.

Quickly after that, he leant to Meldarion, leaving a pained kiss on his full lips but pulling back before he could change his mind on the matter.

With a shuddered breath, he closed his eyes in resignment. One hand moved to cup Meldarion's head at the back, while the other placed the drugged cloth against his mouth and nose. It took several seconds before Meldarion noticed what was happening but as he began to struggle, the drug had already taken too great an effect and Legolas simply drew him closer to his chest, still holding the cloth against his mouth.

Within twenty seconds the struggling stopped, Meldarion falling slack against his body.

With a shuddering breath, he leant down to lay a kiss against the top of his, now fiancé's head before handing him over to Haldir who had appeared at the edge of the clearing.

_"He will be safe here Legolas."_

The distraught elf didn't respond, brushing his hand once more through Meldarion's hair and kissing his cheek before leaving the clearing in as controlled a manner as he could.

* * *

Did anyone see that coming? Does everyone understand what happened? Cause I'll explain it if people review and ask wtf was going on!

Anyway, tell me what you thought of that revelation. Especially of the proposal! I debated on whether to put that in or not, but I thought of it as a way to confirm that Meldarion would still be waiting when he returned, even after what he was about to do (though Meldarion didn't know what he had planned at the start) and it's not like they're saying 'you're in the body of a child but let's get married and raunchy!' it's just a promise just now, to say that one day, they will marry each other, when they're both ready and the world is saved.

'Visum Per' translates literally as 'sight through' according to a Latin translator. However if I have it in the wrong context or such like, or you could suggest a better alternative then please message me! Alas my school offers only French and German

Also, please correct me if my tree is wrong! Also, can elves cry? I tried to find out, for some reason I think I've read somewhere they can't, but can't even think of where I read that!

http:// www. abitoblarney. com/ der3. jpg

This is a link to the ring I used, just remove the spaces!


	7. Chapter 6

Can anyone say 'OMG! SHE FINALLY UPDATED!"?

Yup, it's the return of the slacker!

Last update was in March! MARCH! Dear Lord.

Don't have any excuses, I'm dreadful at updating and get other ideas in my head which have to get written down – and not finished – and right now my head's stuck in BatmanHP Crossover mode, alas there is not nearly enough! If anyone fancies having a go, I've got some ideas! Message me! Of course, they're all BrucexHarry pairings!

Can anyone guess I've just watched the Dark Knight again and am _slightly_ hyper about getting a new chapter out and am, thus, babbling! Ah, what a great word!

As for updates on my other stories… not likely! As I said, I'm not one of these trustworthy, amazing authors (Cough - Aisling-Siobhan, Sin Maxwell and Co., Batsutousai, excentrykemuse, Dark Cyan Star, Epic Solemnity, brainstorm1001, Windseeker2305 and whitedwarf – cough (read as a list of awesome authors – mostly for HP - who can write AMAZING stories and actually _finish_ them! Two skills I rather lack) (also, go check their work out, especially brainstorm1001, cause I beta her work so shameless plugging ensues!) So yeah, don't bother reading this chapter, go check those authors out! ) BIG BRACKET!

Rant concluded.

So yeah, anyway about the delay… well, can't really explain that. I _can_ explain how you've got a new chapter though! It's simple, I've run out of fics to read. I know! This site has millions of them, but I've gone through all the fandoms that interest me, for all the pairings of each fic that I like, and I don't have anything else to read (and still can't bring myself to read a SnapeHarry story, **shivers** – sorry for fans, but I just can't get into that one, apart from two fics by Aisling-Siobhan)

So if anyone can recommend any good, LONG, fics, it will – not only delay the next chapter significantly – make me very happy!

But this note is way too long so anyway:

Disclaimer: If I wrote all the books the Great J.R.R. Tolkien wrote, I would have to have lived for several millennia, cause the speed at which I write is, obviously, rather… slow.

* * *

The Angels Sing 'Hallelujah'!

The remainder of the fellowship was waiting by the boats with those elves that had decided to see them off when Legolas arrived.

With a nod to the Lady Galadriel, he hoisted his pack from where it sat against a tree and marched determinedly passed the watching elves.

"Let us go now, I'm ready."

The hobbits nodded excitedly, rushing to take to the front of the boats they shared while Boromir followed behind them, his shield slung over his shoulder as always.

"Legolas, where is Meldarion?" Aragorn asked vigilantly, looking back into the woods from whenst Legolas came.

The blonde elf refused to meet the ranger's eye, continuing passed him and dropping his pack into the elvish boat, "He is not coming."

The hobbits hushed their cheerful banter to watch the exchange quietly.

"Is that by his choice, or yours Legolas?" Aragorn asked, harshly.

Angered, Legolas swung round to face Aragorn, a heated gaze marring his face, "He is an elfling! I cannot, in good faith, allow his to continue any further when it will continue to get more dangerous as we continue! He has only just entered this world, no one took the time to explain to him what we would be going up against! He is not ready for it! You saw how the Balrog affected him! Imagine if he was brought to face Sauron, as we intend, his evil is many times that of the Balrog! There is no way he would be able to survive! And as he would not make the decision to save himself from this danger, I had to!"

Legolas took several deep breaths, calming himself as best as he could, before turning back to face the river, ashamed at having lost himself so.

"It was still not your decision to make, Legolas. I saw how the Balrog affected him, yes. But I also saw what he did afterwards. His magic completely destroyed the entire cavern of goblins!"

"He collapsed after that Aragorn. Haldir has agreed to watch over him here. He is staying, we should make haste."

Aragorn opened his mouth to protest once more, however another voice entered the debate, clapping Legolas on the back in support.

"Leave it Laddie. If the little runt will be safer here then it's best he stays here." Gimli advised.

"You didn't like him, Gimli! You're opinion is biased against him," Aragorn pointed out.

Gimli gave an indignant huff, "I didn't like the runt, but taking a child into a fight like this is not something I like to do. We should leave now, Aragorn, not waste more time arguing. The elfling will be safest staying here, let the rest of us continue."

The ranger finally gave a defeated sigh before stepping forwards to his boat, "Very well, but I do not think this will work as you intend."

* * *

Meldarion woke slowly, his eyes refusing to open completely for several minutes, in which time his mind took in his surrounding.

He was in one of the Lothlorien elves home, why, he couldn't quite remember.

However when his eyes decided to focus on something they were automatically drawn to a green glimmer on his left hand. His mind quickly recognised it as a ring and suddenly everything came back to him.

With a cry that couldn't be categorised as one emotion, for it was filled with anguish, betrayal, hatred, sorrow, resentment and many more emotions he sat up as an elf entered the room.

Grasping his ringed hand to his chest, he looked up at Haldir as he watched.

"He didn't… tell me he didn't, Haldir!" He cried to the warden.

Haldir's face took on a consoling expression and he took a step towards the anguished elfling, making a hushing sound to try and calm him.

"He only left because he thought it-" Haldir went silent as his mouth closed itself forcefully, out of his control.

"Bull shit." Meldarion whispered, startling the elf with his crude language. "Don't give me that bull shit, Haldir! Tell me why he really left!"

Haldir found his mouth free to speak again and once again took a consoling step to the elf-child, "He is trying to protect you, Meldarion. It is danger-"

His mouth once more was sealed closed and the elfling slipped to the floor in front of his feet.

"It's because he doesn't want me, isn't it? He's fed up with me already, right?" Meldarion wrapped his arms around his knees, pressing his tearful eyes against them as his body shook.

Suddenly he felt an arm around his shoulders and a pull, forcing him against the other elf's chest as he trembled with tears.

Haldir couldn't speak, so he made do with rubbing soothing patterns on the child's back until, almost an hour later he calmed, and he found his mouth once more under his control.

"He really is trying to do what he thinks is best for you, to keep you safe, Meldarion, even if you hate him for it, your safety is what matters to him."

Slowly Meldarion uncurled himself and looked up to the other elf before nodding, "I know. I just hate it when I get left behind."

Haldir stood, pulling Meldarion with him, "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."  
Meldarion allowed himself to be pulled into a washroom and splashed water across his face before drying it with a towel Haldir provided.

Finished, he gave Haldir a sad smile and beckoned him for a hug with his arms wide.

The elder elf happily complied, resting his chin on the mop of dark hair as small hands settled behind his neck.

"Thank you Haldir. It's not your fault."  
Before Haldir could comprehend what wasn't his fault, a bright red light hit him at point blank range as Meldarion whispered, "_Stupefy_".

* * *

The fellowship were silent as the boats split through the water, seamlessly. For once even Merry and Pippin were morose, thinking of the small elf they had made friends with. The only one who spoke on occasion was Gimli, seemingly offering the wood elf support of a kind. Only when they pulled the boats to the shore for the night and the elf disembarked after the dwarf did the elf speak, with a wan smile, "Thank you Gimli."

"Quite all right, Master Elf!" the dwarf replied enthusiastically before giving a huff as he plonked onto the sandy ground.

Legolas gracefully lowered himself onto the patch beside him, his back leaning against a tree. "I would like to apologize, Gimli. Throughout this journey I have taunted you endlessly, and now-"

Gimli spluttered slightly, cutting him off. "I can't very well let you get the better of me by apologizing when I am more at fault!" he blustered. "You only acted the way you did… because of the shameful way I treated the little elf. If my father hadn't been there… the rest of us would have left him to die. There's nuffin' I regret more. A shame on the dwarves."

He didn't look up as Legolas' hand rested on his shoulder, gripping slightly in silent support as they both sank into their regrets for a time.

* * *

Placing the tip of his wand to the top of his head, Meldarion shivered as the disillusionment spell ran down his body. He knew that, even under this spell, an elf's eyes are still sharp enough to catch his movements.

His feet carried him swiftly down the tree that Haldir resided in, before pressing himself into a small space in its massive roots, observing the few elves wandering in the area.

Waiting several moments until no one was looking in his direction before, with his wand in hand, he legged it towards the river.

He silently apologized to a startled elf leaving his home as a red stunning spell hit him before he could speak before cursing slightly as he heard a gasp behind him.

"What are-" the blonde elf collapsed forward unconscious, before he could finish his exclamation.

He continued on, before finally breaking through the last trees before the river's edge. There he halted, placing his hands on his knees and trying to slow his breathing as the adrenalin slowly lessened and his heartbeat slowed.

It stopped for a panicked second before picking up speed again as a delicate hand settled on his shoulder.

"You escape well, little elfling," a soft voice told him, over his shoulder.

He turned, turning his face upwards to meet Galadriel's eyes, his fingers tightening around his wand.

"They should have known you would not have stayed and we would not be able to keep you, there is much determination in you, Meldarion."

He allowed himself to relax slightly, though his wand arm remained tense in preparation.

"You should make speed, your pack is prepared," she motioned to the base of a tree where his supplies waited.

"The fellowship left yester-evening and should take another two days yet to reach Parth Galen, however I fear you may not yet catch up. Move with great haste, Meldarion; yet be wary of the lurking eyes. Sauron would offer great reward to anyone who captures an elfling, his perversion is great."

Meldarion nodded back, understanding the great trials he was submitting himself to, and what he would be forced into, should he be ensnared.

She gave him a smile, "Very well. May the Valar bless your travel and carry you through Shadow."

She bent to his height and encapsulated him in her arms and blessing his forehead with a kiss before motioning to a small boat set in a shadow of a willow.

Taking his pack, ignoring the fact it felt heavier than usual, he placed it in the small vessel and took his seat and paddle.

Galadriel shocked him, stepping into the waters beside him, her long gown soaking water up as she began to push him out, going with him until she was knee deep and the currents caught him.

He looked back as he began to paddle and Hedwig landed softly on the bow, and smiled at Galadriel, receiving a smile, much lighter than any he had seen on the Lady before, and a gentle wave of the hand before he faced forwards again, paddling with the current to get some speed.

He had much ground to make up and the shores passed Lothlorien would be treacherous. Paddling with the current, he made haste.

* * *

He pushed his boat to the shore as night fell, and jumped out, instantly beginning to reel off all the protective charms he had learnt from Hermione during their quest for the horcruxes. Having survived through the year using these charms, he felt safe enough within the invisible magical barrier. And, just in case, alarms were set to sound if someone came within a hundred feet of where he lay.

He lay down, covering himself with an elvish blanket that he found at the top of his pack, made of the finest and toughest elvish threads.

However rest was a long time coming, unable to find his peace without the calming bulk sleeping beside him, ensuring his safety and comfort. He woke many times that night.

* * *

After splashing his face with the chilled waters of the river to awaken himself, Meldarion returned to his pack, investigating its contents for the first time.

Spreading the blanket on the ground and removed the next packages. He recognised the leaf as that from a Mallorn tree, and the substance it contained as Lembas bread from the constant teachings of Legolas: "one bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man".

Meldarion blinked back the tears, trying his best to put thoughts of the elder elf out of his head for the moment, the betrayal still bearing strong.

Placing the food – not only Lembas, but some sweet cakes and hardened candies – and water skins aside, he reached his short arm in and pulled the next item out, gasping as the sun reached it.

In his hands was a flawless – as far as he could see – elvish chest plate, with strips of metal melded together all meeting at his solar plexus before a lighter weight, black armour covers his stomach. At the shoulders, leaf shaped plates of armour were attached to the breast plate with the same black armour. From the bottom of the armour, wing-like metal plates extended around the top of either leg.

Sitting it aside gently, he pulled out what he assumed to be the next piece of his armour.

The morning sunlight hit the metal, sending bright light cascading into his eyes. Once again he let out a startled gasp.

"Ooh, I can't wait to see Gimli's face when he sees this!" he whispered to Hedwig, entranced by the mithril shirt held tightly in his grasp. "Who knew the elves had such a treasure!"

Placing it down, he pulled a pair of black, doe-skin breeches from the pack, laying them underneath his new ensemble to get an impression of it.

Lastly, he found a pair of knee-high metal-plated leather boots folded carefully into the bottom of his pack, along with fingerless gauntlets – to allow his fingers to carry out tricky wand movements without obstruction – a soft, cotton tunic for under his mithril vest and a Lothlorien cloak with a Mallorn-leaf clasp.

Smiling, he threw the cloak outwards of the tight ball it had been folded into, quickly catching the note that flew out of it from the motion.

Unfolding the delicate paper, he found barely five lines of elegant script:

"_Meldarion, I wish you well on your journey, though I have not foreseen it being an easy task, however I trust that you will find your way._

_This armour was made for your coming by the finest crafter in Lorien, I hope it will carry you through many inescapable confrontations. The mithril has been treasured by the elves for many centuries, however never has one of the necessary size had need of it. I plead that you never take it off. I put my faith in you, Meldarion, for, as much as the fate of Sauron lies in Frodo's hands, the fate of free-men lies in yours. They must stand together united until Frodo has rid the world of his poison. The fellowship will break, and you must remain strong until the end is reached, then, Harry Potter, you will receive the peace you have earned."_

Meldarion smiled at the note, 'Trust her to know everything that happens, even outside of her world!'

With a humoured chuckle, he refolded the letter and wrapped it in the tunic he pulled over his head, followed into his pack by his breeches before he shrugged the new armour into place. After taking a bite of lembas, he threw the pack back into the elvish vessel before rowing out to the centre of the river and finally releasing the charms over his rest point.

* * *

It wasn't until his third day from Lorien that he reached Parth Galen, only to find a boat on either shore, both abandoned.

Pushing his boat to the Western riverbed, he jumped out, one hand resting on his sword nervously as he picks through the supplies abandoned – or so he hoped – on the embankment.

Hedwig softly landed on his shoulder, nibbled his earlobe before taking off again, signalling that she had found no enemies lurking, or any allies.

Giving a terse sigh, Meldarion drew his wand, whispering, "Point me, Legolas."

His wand barely moved, the lightened tip pointing west, into the forest in front of him.

Gaining the same result for Aragorn, he then whispered, "Point me, Frodo."

His wand twisted in a 180, pointing to the opposite bank, and towards Mordor.

His heart dropped, "Frodo is headed to the dead marshes! Alone!"

Fighting off the panic for as long as possible he found both Merry and Pippin to be in the opposite direction again, just slightly North of Legolas and Aragorn.

"Point me, Sam!" he demanded, almost hysterical by this point.

He allowed himself a great sigh of relief and trembling chuckle at the revelation that Frodo wasn't entirely alone and, though he hadn't had much contact with the blonde hobbit, he knew Sam to be both trustworthy and entirely devoted to Frodo. Though Aragorn or Legolas would have been better companions, he could trust that Sam would not leave Frodo's side.

With a gentle whisper, content that Frodo would, at the very least, not give up with Sam accompanying him, he cast the next spell: "Point me, Boromir."

It took him several seconds to acknowledge that the warmth in his wand had disappeared, and the light at its tip extinguished, before he bowed his head, praying only that he had died fighting, and not consumed by the ring's poison and that the Valar accept his spirit.

With a wearied voice, he cast the final charm, contented when he found Gimli with Legolas and Aragorn. He may dislike the dwarf, but he would not wish him dead.

Taking out a lembas bread, he chews it thoroughly, watching the river flow as he planned his next move. Making his mind up as he swallowed, he refilled his water skins before pulling his pack back on and setting forth into the woods. He had much ground to make up. He had to unite the men of Middle Earth after all, no time to waste!

* * *

So, tbh, not much really happened, which is kinda shit, since it's been forever since the last update and now you get this bunch of crap.

And I know a lot of you were looking forward to Meldarion kicking ass, but I tried to write it, and it just didn't work.

Also he was going to be attacked by orcs, but then I realised that they all ran off towards Isengard after attacking the fellowship, so there were none around to attack him.

I know, what a load of kitten-shit, but I did what I could! :3

I kinda fell into the author-trap of going overly descriptive on his new outfit, when you're all probably thinking 'I don't give a damn!'

But to give you even more of an idea, lol!

For Meldarion's armour, think of Haldir's. And if you can't remember that, here's a link! (Which probably won't work! Just make sure to remove the spaces!)

http:/ padawanjenn. /LotR/ twotowers/haldir14_lrg. jpg

Looking at it again, tbh, it doesn't look that great there, but he looks hot in it, even as he dies!

In the place of the red, it's black though.

**Note, the title has absolutely no relevance to the chapter, just a humourous title to note the fact that I haven't updated in ages and it's a miracle I actually have!**

Anyway, that is it for now, amigos!

Hopefully your hate mail won't be too hateful!


	8. Chapter 7

OMG! I started this the day after I posted the last one! Can't believe it! (not sure when it's finished though…) (answer: several days later, I suddenly had a writing urge)

Thanks for all the reviews etc! They're all great!  
Though I've got the general feeling that people expect them to reunite soon (though with the speed at which my chapters go through plot line, it could be). The vague plan in my head says otherwise, but Legolas and Meldarion sometimes screw up that plan and do what they want! Damn them!

Really unhappy with this chapter, things just wouldn't work how they were suppose to and no one spoke properly! But it's done, and getting this out means that the more important parts coming up can be written!

NOTE, I very much doubt you'll get two updates so close again, or a chapter as absolute gash as this one is. After the hell this chapter put me through, it might be a while till the next is what i'm trying to say.

Disclaimer: If I wrote all the books J.R.R. Tolkien did, they would be shit. And, as they aren't shit, I didn't write them. Capiche?

* * *

The Fiance's Owl

The planes of Rohan were vast and endless, Meldarion noted as he stood on a small group of rocks overlooking the planes. From the planes only the continuing grass could be seen, but from the small vantage point he had reached, he could see trees far in the distance to his right thanks to his keen elf eyes.

Seen only by those eyes was a glittering green trail, floating at chest height. The spell, semita secuutus, followed by a person's name, showed where they had run within 48 hours. He had transferred from using 'Point Me' to this after being led in his mates direction, only to end up at a sharp cliff-face. Thankfully he had navigated around the cliff-face quickly, and picked up Legolas' trail within half an hour: it put him farther behind though.

Meldarion wasn't sure he would catch up with them unless they stopped with the head start they had on him. He was thankful they travelled with a dwarf, otherwise, with an grown elf and a ranger, they would quickly leave him behind, clueless as to their destination.

He could taste evil in the air, like the burnt down ashes of a village, though it was faint, indicating both the orcs, and the dark magic, had passed this area a while back.

Jumping down from the cliff and springing forwards, he continued to push himself after them.

* * *

The trio hesitantly paced into the woods. They had followed Merry and Pippin this far, given up hope for a scant few minutes, before following their trail into the darkened thicket where branches reached out to snag at them, drawing them closer to the trunk.

Gimli grunted, anxious at the ever-encroaching twigs and let his hand fall to his axe.

"No, Gimli. Do not draw your axe, you may provoke them," Aragorn told him, causing the dwarf more fear than before.

"Provoke what? What's out there!" he asked, trying to hide the panic, all-too-clear in his voice.

"The trees are talking" Legolas informed them. "They speak of the white wizard's approach."

Aragorn hissed, cursing in elvish under his breath. "Saruman cannot capture us. His voice can ensnare those of weak will. We must strike quickly."

His two fellows nodded their agreement, preparing their weapons before pivoting to face their guest.

Gimli's axe was thrown out of his hands with pure magic and implanted itself at the base of a tree several meters away.

The arrows Legolas loosed were shattered, turning into splinters of bark and feather.

Aragorn dropped his sword as the metal heated, turning unbearably hot but not scarring his hands.

They each shielded their eyes as the bright aura grew more intense before dying down.

"You follow after two hobbits. They passed this way, just yesterday. They met someone, they didn't expect. Does that comfort you?"

Aragorn straightened his back, bravely, "Show yourself, c-"

"Gandalf?" Gimli asked, his voice lowered in shock.

The wizard gazed fondly over the group before he took on a more troubled look, scanning the rest of the area.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice urgent, "Where is Meldarion?"

The group frowned, surprised at the sudden question before Legolas stepped forward.

"He is in Lothlorien with the elves. It is safe-"

The elf was cut off as Gandalf took a stride forward and bashed the three of them on the head with his staff, painfully.

"Then what way are Frodo and Sam headed?" he asked, both urgently and resigned.

"They departed from us at Amon Hen, headed to the Dead Marshes," Aragorn told him.

The wizard bowed his head, a despairing frown on his face.

"There is no hope," he whispered, to the shock of the watching trio. "You left that in Lothlorien. Did you honestly believe that Meldarion would stay behind when ordered you fools? He will no doubt be tracking you as we speak."

He gave them all a piercing glare; taking in Legolas' vexed expression before hitting them once more with his staff, to relieve some stress.

"Then we should wait and allow him to catch us!" Legolas demanded.

"No! There is no time; things are on the move that must be stopped! We must continue to move; Meldarion will not follow once he finds that you have met with me. He only tried to catch up as he knew you would need more help that what you had. Now I am here he will go his own way, and do what he can."

The elf's face lost what remained of its colour and his lips pressed into a tight line, going silent. Taking this chance, Gandalf turned sharply and began leading them through the trees.

"But Gandalf," Aragorn started, "why do you have such little faith in Frodo and Sam. We must trust in them, they are strong yet!"

Gandalf stopped from where he was leading them and leaned heavily against a tree.

"On our way to Moria I spoke with Meldarion. I told him what must happen when I was gone, for I could feel in my bones that my time was coming. He was to lead the fellowship when I had fallen, and you were to go through the Morgul Vale, with your numbers, and Meldarion's magic, you would have been able to pass into the enemies camp with no detection and then there would only be the last plane between the company and mount doom. Allowing Frodo and Sam to enter the Dead Marshes leaves them little chance of survival. They may never find their way out alive. We can only hope the ring will be lost."

The company felt the weight of his words pressing down on them before Gandalf forced them to begin moving again.

"But, the little elf could hardly stand when the Balrog arrived, how would he have been able to continue when Sauron came close?" Gimli asked, trying for an out.

"When the Balrog emerged, what occurred may be referred to as Meldarion coming into his magic in this world. The shock of such a powerful dark magic caused him to become unresponsive while his magic counter-acted it and came into it's fullity. If that hadn't happened, he would have gradually reached it, this just forced it to occur in one day, rather than months. From hence onwards, Meldarion has been several times my better. His awareness of magic was so keen, he woke at the smallest spell I cast. He would have been able to lead you, unseen to the very end. I only hope he can have such a great effect on the war in a different manner."

The company fell silent as they continued to move forwards, each mind focussed on the elfling running many miles behind.

* * *

Meldarion stopped at a rocky hill as night fell. Peering around he concluded that it was the most natural protection he would find for the night.

Setting down his pack, he ran through the motions of putting his protective spells in place before allowing himself to sit and start a fire.

He felt safe inside his bubble of charms. He had survived through a year on the run from Voldemort within these magical walls, so they felt utterly impenetrable. However, it didn't feel right. He still found sleep hard coming, without his soul mate by his side, his arms wrapped around him as they slept.

It still shocked Meldarion, how much he'd changed since arriving in Middle Earth. In his time on Earth, he'd never needed someone lying beside him to sleep easily – he'd never _had_ someone lying beside him as he slept. However, in contrast, he'd never slept so well as when Legolas laid by his side, even if he was feeling the repercussions now, without him.

However, another change was that, since his encounter with the Balrog, he had never felt so brimming with magic as he did now. This world, whilst fewer in wizarding folk, was much more free; there was no restraint on magic. It was in the elves and wizards, trees and earth; the whole world strummed with it. It echoed in his bones. And he could feel it much more; the wards he raised sang to him, helping him sleep when he tossed and turned, keeping him warm and happy whilst he was within their arms, and informing him of any lurking enemies before he lowered them.

It wasn't just his magic either, the earth told him its tale. Sadness at the trampling of a group of orcs several days ago; joy at the light treadings of an elf and ranger; humour at the stumbling dwarf following along, toppling down hills.

This world was magic and in it, magic was alive.

* * *

He reached Fangorn forest as dusk was falling the following day. He felt no fear as the trees reached out to him, their branches catching in his clothes and hair. He felt the joy, laughter in their touch, at their chance to finally feel an elf-child. They spoke and whispered and giggled in his ears and he followed where they pushed him to.

He stopped at the clearing Gandalf had appeared in, seeing snippets of memories from the branches – of reunions and punishments – before he was pulled onwards again. He leant against the tree Gandalf had rested on and saw the moments of revelations and regrets.

Finally he was pulled to edge of the forest, onto a clearing where the trees told him the company were headed to Edoras, while the hobbits stayed with Treebeard, 'a trusted tree' they said. They warned him though, Isengard was breathing death, and soon would spread it foul stench to the rest of Rohan. They told him that Gandalf had gone to fix Rohan's king, for he was diseased with black and that they would soon be outnumbered and besieged, for the trees had seen the numbers of depraved evil in Isengard.

Hearing that, Meldarion's mind set.

He pulled a parchment and quill from his pack and wrote two letters of request before sending them to their destination with Hedwig, sad to part with the owl for the first length of time since arriving.

Putting that aside, he drew his wand and pulled a map from his pack, cast 'Point Me' and set off in his new direction.

* * *

Thranduil was sat on his throne, reading missives from the elves at the Southern Border when the owl swooped down. It landed beside his arm, raised a leg and looked at him expectantly while clicking it's beak impatiently. For several moments, Thranduil expected it to speak, the intelligence in its eyes equalling that of the eyes of a Great Eagle.

It was as he shook himself, reminding himself that they were Eagles and this was but an owl, that he noticed the message attached to its leg. As he took it, he pondered over who could possibly send a letter with an owl, that was intelligent enough to find and deliver the letter to him.

Putting his thoughts aside for the moment, he snapped the vine holding the parchment closed with a finger and unravelled the letter.

_"Lord Thranduil,_

_It is with great hope that I write to you, as I have need of much assistance. I am sure whispers of me have reached your ears by now, however if they have not I am an elfling that was brought to Rivendell by the dwarves, having been found in the snow. Much has happened since then, and there is much to inform you of._

_However firstly, I find I must inform you, if only to curry favour, that Legolas and I are soulmates. I am his fiancé since our stay in Lothlorien. Do not blame Legolas for rushing so with the courtship; he sought to gain a promise from me to be with him after the war ended before he left me unconscious in Lorien. I need not say that I did not stay with the elves and followed his trail until other matters arose that I had need to attend to. I do hope someday, when peace has settled, that Legolas will bring me to you and you will approve of me: it would not do for Legolas have to choose between the two of us._

_However, it pains me to say that there are more important matters than Legolas and I. At this moment, Legolas and Aragorn are in Rohan, bringing the King from Saruman's influence. However the trees have shown me the might of Isengard: soon an army of ten thousand strong orcs will march on them and they number but three hundred of old and youths, holed up in their stronghold, Helm's Deep. Any elves you can spare would make all the difference, to both the battle and to my state of mind. I will be forever indebted to you if you can help ensure my mate survives the battles ahead._

_The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn have also received a letter of request, so I hope any help spared by the two great elven nations will change the tide of the battle._

_As a final request, please allow Hedwig, my owl, to recuperate before returning to me, she has had many long journeys and I cannot afford her the rest she deserves._

_My thanks in regards to any aid you can provide,_

_Meldarion"_

The elvish King took a long moment, sighing wearily before standing. He started when the owl fluttered up onto his shoulder and nibbled his ear before relaxing and petting its feathers.

He strode out of his throne room, pondering how his son managed to get himself into such situations: a fiancé? He hadn't even been gone a year! He would be speaking to his son about the proper courting rituals when all this mess was cleared up.

He thought back to the letter in his hand. An elfling… he had heard the whispers, though had dismissed them. Where had he come from? How did he end up in such a situation that he was saved by _dwarves_ of all creatures?

Putting these questions aside, the elfling had seemed acceptable. Rash, perhaps, having left Lothlorien by himself, but smart enough to send for assistance when needed. He wondered if the men would even think to send a messenger for help to the elves. He doubted, they were too prideful, even when their fates were at hand.

He sent a messenger to bring his commander to him as he headed to the dining hall.

Taking his seat at the head, he pulled a goblet of water and plate of meats to him, motioning for the owl to eat, certain its intelligence would be enough to understand the gesture: it was.

Scant few minutes later, a knock on the door announced Dûrion's arrival. The dark haired elf – one of the minority of that colouring in Mirkwood – entered, looking slightly alarmed at the bird eating from his plate.

"My King," he bowed at the waist, trying not to stare at the owl.

"Ignore the owl, Dûrion, I am allowing it rest for my son's fiancé."

Thranduil allowed himself a mental cackle at the look of shock that appeared on Dûrion's face.

"His… fiancé, my Lord?"

Thranduil sighed dramatically, "Shocking, I assure you. He leave home for not even a year and suddenly he's engaged. However," his voice became serious, "that is not of importance. How many elves can be spared to assist the men my son is currently with?"

Dûrion focussed for a second, his frown concentrated, "We have maybe one thousand, three hundred prepared to be sent out by tomorrow if needed."

"How many would that leave at the borders?"

"Seven hundred. However they have reported that attacks from the enemy are decreasing, and many groups have been seen departing the forest and heading southeast, towards Mordor. The Dark Lord is calling all his servants to him, in preparation."

Thranduil rested his chin against his arched fingers, contemplating strategy and numbers.

"Dûrion, I want you to lead eleven hundred elves to Helm's Deep to assist the battle there. The priority is my son's safety, and you will take your orders from him, not the King of Rohan. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"You have until noon tomorrow to depart, may the will of the Valar guide you."

Dûrion bowed once more from the waist before leaving the room.

Thranduil sighed, bowing his head, "May the Valar bless us all," he whispered.

A ruffling of feathers caught his attention as the owl, Hedwig – he chortled at the name – resettled herself on his shoulder and nibbled his ear, comfortingly.

* * *

The Lady Galadriel smiled at the missive she had received from the little elf. He asked for her help in Rohan, the battle which she had just foreseen and given the orders to prepare five hundred soldiers to send.

She smiled, reading the letter once more. She had no doubt Thranduil will send as many as he can spare, after receiving a letter from Meldarion. It may not seem it, but he was cunningly convincing; he would surely have played on Thranduil's protectiveness of his son to receive the necessary help, she just hopes it was enough.

Reaching the end of the letter, she smiled, hardly concerned when he referred to her as 'Grandma Galadriel'.

She sighed; he would have the elvish lords and ladies all wrapped round his finger once he met Thranduil.

For now though, she would sit by her mirror, hoping to catch any glimpse of the future.

* * *

Not happy with this chapter. Thranduil was extremely hard to write, as was Galadriel. If I got anything wrong about Mirkwood etc, please inform me as I know next to nothing about the place. Dûrion is a made up character, as I couldn't find any mention of Mirkwood elves' names alive at this time other than Thranduil and Legolas.

Semita secuutus literally translates as 'path followed'

Note for those who know way too much about LotRs: I'm going by the film estimate of fighters at Helm's Deep, however have raised the number of elves from Lothlorien to 500 instead of 250, seen as Thranduil is sending so many and Galadriel is rather partial to Meldarion's requests.

Please, also, don't tell me that Thranduil couldn't possibly spare elves to send to Helm's Deep cause, if that's the case, then I've changed it so he can! And I have no idea as to how many elves would patrol the borders in Mirkwood, that was a completely made up number!

Yeah, just looked over it again and really not happy with it, especially the letter. It's hard to get Meldarion to speak the way I want him to in a letter, if that made sense.

It just seems a hell of a lot of non-action.

Well, anyway, it needs to be done for the rest to happen – well, Galadriel wasn't necessary, but the chapter was short, and Thranduil was going to be left as a mystery, but then I couldn't move on to the next part cause it really does need a new chapter for that!

So, this is what you got, deal with it! Lol.


	9. Chapter 8

This chapter is probably as much of a shock to me as it is to you readers! Don't know when another update with spontaneously occur… It's shorter than the others were, but I find it too difficult to write to that length and if I tried, you wouldn't even be getting this chapter… Some of the many reasons for this sudden, unexpected update are at the end. But for now, enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not claim the rights to anything! Do you hear that SOPA? I DO NOT OWN THIS! I ACKNOWLEDGE THE FACT! I ALSO MAKE NO MONEY FROM THE HOURS SPENT AT THE COMPUTER WRITING FANFICTION! Good, glad that's cleared up.

* * *

It had been a week since he had sent his missives, requesting the aid of the elves for the men of Rohan. Since then he could feel the changes in the world – there was an up swell in the magic he associated with Galadriel's kingdom as they moved to action and a similar type of movement from, what he could only assume to be the Mirkwood elves. Their magic shared common traits, though those from Mirkwood felt more burdened with the effects of long battles and hardship. Still, the feel of their movement that travelled with the wind to reach him offered him much relief – especially when he was also battling against the stench and foul magic that emanated from the dark army that had begun its journey from Isengard. Meldarion doubted that the elves from Mirkwood that were making haste to assist Rohan would arrive in time, but he was sure that, with the addition of the Lothlorien elves, the army would be able to hold on until their aid arrived.

For now though, with the assurance that he had sent what help he could to Legolas and Aragorn, he let go of the thought of seeing Legolas soon and began heading south, to do the opposite of what Gandalf had told him and meet with the Steward of Gondor.

Having been headed east towards Edoras on Legolas' trail, he now set his wand-compass to lead him south to Minas Tirith and as such, found himself crossing the Entwash and following the Eastfold parallel to the mountains.

It was on the third day's travel, only two hours since Hedwig had re-joined him, circling in the skies above, that he found himself quickly surrounded by weary yet alert horsemen, their armour holding the same symbol as he had seen on Boromir's, and their swords directed towards him in a wary manner that defined the current times perfectly.

He held his hands up in a placating gesture, though they knew not that the stick hidden on his arm would be able to stun them within a second should anything go untoward. He offered them an innocent smile, his face visible, even as he kept his hood up to cover his ears.

While several of them shifted at his obvious youth, it seemed to make them all together more wary – understandable when finding a young child in the middle of lands fraught with war and death with no companions.

They appeared to put his youth to the side and deal with him as they would any strange in these times: "Who are you and what is your business in the lands of Gondor?"

Meldarion faced the man who had spoken, a middle-aged man whose blonde hair was course and dirty and his face held a few weeks' worth of beard that didn't suit its shape. "I come to bring news to the Steward of Gondor from the elven nations, and most recently from the land of Rohan. The tide of the war may be beginning to turn."

As relieved as the men were at his announcement, it didn't change their nerves over his presence.

"How are we to know you are to be trusted? And why would a child be sent on such a task?"

He paused for several moments, scanning several minds for any sign of disloyalty or negativity towards elven kind. When the worst he could find was uncertainty towards his race – though his skills at legilimency were extremely limited – he pushed his hood from his head.

"I am not as young as you think I am and have as much of a roll to play in this war as any other."

The overall unease amongst the men increased, though their fear abated at the same time.

The commander kept his surprise concealed, "It is said that the elves are more protective of their young than their lands. Why would they allow you to travel without aid?"

"I have all the aid I need in my owl Hedwig, who alerted me to your presence over an hour before you reached me." As if hearing her name mentioned – and Meldarion wouldn't be surprised if that was the case – and gave a shrill call from where she was circling, lower than normal. "And when I set out from Rivendell I was with a larger group that has since split ways – Lord Boromir was another of the group."

The horsemen perked then, "You have news of Lord Boromir?"

Meldarion hesitated for barely a second, "I am afraid not. I was held up in Lothlorien and, before I could catch up with the fellowship they had split into separate groups headed in different directions. I did not see whom went which way and have not had any contact with them since. The news I bring has been told to me by the earth and winds."

None of what he said had been a lie. For all that he knew the directions taken by each group, and of Boromir's demise, he had not actually _seen_ it and that was all he had assured the men of. Whilst he thought it cruel to keep the news of the Lord's death from his people and family, from Gandalf's words he did not truly trust to the rule of the Steward, and was worried what the truth would do to him, especially in a time that needed strong leaders like never before.

Having assured himself he was doing the right thing, he looked back to the men who seemed rather perplexed at his announcement. Finally they seemed to trust to his words and the swords that had been aimed at him since their arrival were lowered, though not immediately sheathed.

"We will take you to Minas Tirith, though whether you will speak to the Steward is out of our hands. From this point we have a full day's ride before us. We shall get another two hours in before stopping for rest."

He nodded to another man, who pushed his horse forward whilst sheathing his sword and offered Meldarion a hand to hoist himself into the saddle in front of his torso with his arms surrounding the elfling to handle the reins. Meldarion settled in place and moments later the company was making haste once more across the open lands.

When they made camp that night, Meldarion didn't even hesitated before beginning to cast the enchantments around the site – a significantly larger area than he had become used to. With the lack of any lights emitted from his wand, the men were only confused by his wanderings whilst muttering in a foreign tongue – however, being unfamiliar with elven kind, it wasn't until asked by Captain Thorden that he explained he was placing enchantments around them for safety.

"You are a wizard?" was the shocked response. "I did not know that there were such amongst the fair folk!"

Meldarion gave a smile before avoiding the question, "How much _do _you know about elves?"

The man gave a conceding nod before offering him a bowl of some form of stew. The meal didn't look appetising, and he considered declining in favour of the elven foods in his pack, before dismissing that plan and taking the food. It was better than he be seen to be accepting of the hospitality offered to him than to be reclusive as these would surely be the men who would first announce his arrival to the Steward. With that in mind, he settled himself down with the much larger men around the fire that night to listen to the boisterous tales they had to tell him. He laughed at their tales, and more at their amazement that, even whilst having their swords pointed at him earlier, they would not have been able to do him damage beyond the shield he had erected with his magic. They made good company for the night.

* * *

Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli were sat around a table of maps and scraps of parchment with depressing figures that represented the numbers of available men. There was the hope Gandalf's return with the large group of Rohirrim that had been banished during Grima's term as advisor to Théoden, but it was overshadowed by the numbers that Aragorn had seen headed in their direction. With the enemy not even a day away, they had no time or way to call for reinforcements from either Gondor or the elves. They had but the 'impenetrable' walls of the Hornburg and the few hundred elderly or too youthful men with which to defend themselves.

It was as they argued over the lower age limit of the fighters that they heard a horn sound from not afar outside their walls. For a split second they all froze at the prospect of the enemy having arrived many hours before their expectations then Aragorn and Legolas' faces lit with understanding and they shared a smirk before racing out the door.

"Those are elven horns!"

Within moments they were at the top of the wall overlooking their surroundings. The elven flags of Lothlorien were a wonderful sight to their tired eyes and Aragorn quickly ordered the men to open the gates before the pair sprinted down to meet their comrades, neither noticing Gimli stomping along behind them trying to keep pace.

The men near the gate had to move further into the keep, crowding around the upper walls to watch as more and more elves continued to flood into the stone fort, their eyes bugging out of their faces at so many fair folk.

Aragorn and Legolas met Haldir warmly as the gates were once again shut, ignoring Théoden and his commanders' shocked faces for now.

Haldir smiled at the two of them before it diminished slightly whilst facing Legolas. "My friend, I must apologise deeply to you. Your young mate is tricky and, within the day of awakening from his slumber, knocked me unconscious and snuck from Lothlorien. The only consolidation I can offer is that the Lady saw him off and ensured he was prepared with the finest elven armour and dwarven mithril. I failed in my promise to you."

Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder, "Gandalf has already told me, as well as letting me know how foolish I was to believe any elf could keep him in Lorien. Do not blame yourself; your presence now is what is important. I can only hope that he is safe wherever he may be."

Aragorn nodded his agreement with the Mirkwood elf's statement. "Your presence here will make a great difference to the coming fight! There must be four hundred strong of you!"

Haldir laughed at their awe, "we number just over five hundred. Lady Galadriel had already prepared half of us to leave when a message arrived from a certain elfling asking that we send aid. After that she doubled our numbers."

Legolas once more perked up to attention, "You've had word from Meldarion? Where is he? Is he well? What did he say?"

"I'm afraid none but Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn read the note, however both were more happy afterwards, and the Lady has kept the note with her, at least until we left anyway. She assured me he is in good health but that is as much as I know. That he wrote to the Lady when he did though, indicates that he has a better understanding of the overall goings on than most of us. Whatever he may be doing now, the effects will surely bring benefit to us later on, whether we know it is the result of his input or not."

The three nodded, rather solemn at the thought of the elfling out on his own. But then the moment was forced to end as Théoden strode forward to greet them and they made their way into the planning room to rethink their strategy – they had few enough hours to make proper plans to include the powerful new men they had been provided. There would be precious few hours rest for them before the battle began.

* * *

And that seemed like a good place to end this chapter. As I say at the start, no promises of any more updates any time soon! This was brought about by my rereading the fic (for the first time) and the fact that I've just lost ALL my work on my external hard-drive (aka all of the unpublished fics, the starts of the next chapters for the published fics and all the ES21 chapters I hadn't got around to publishing DX)

Hopefully this chapter still has whatever it was that made people like this fic when I last updated! As I still get the occasional review, I'm assuming people are still interested in it!


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